And Then It Happened…

Oh, the joys of fatherhood. Today was gonna be a lazy day. Mill around the house and do some work in my new kitchen. Things were quiet. TOO quiet, if you ask me. And then it happened…

“Daaaaaad! I’m booooooored.”

Can I tell ya…I HATE when that statement is made because that means one of two things.

  1. I have to find something for them to do
  2. I have to entertain them

In today’s case, I decided that having the neighbor boys come over to play might be the best option. The neighbor boys are actually the sons of our very good friends, so I figured having them over would be easy. Feed ’em a popsicle and those kids are great! However, what I neglected to think about was that the neighbor boys are neighbors to the neighbor girls. The neighbor girls are also friends (Christopher is in the same grade as one of them), so of course THEY were playing in the neighbor boys’ yard when Christopher hopped the fence to see if the neighbor boys wanted to come over to play. So when the neighbor boys were asked to visit…so were the neighbor girls. So now we have not 2, not 4 6 kids playing in our yard, throwing toys about and basically behaving like the little heathens that kids can be.

Then my wife invited her friend over to see the new addition. I love my wife’s friend and haven’t seen her in quite some time, however she has 3 kids of her own. So when she arrived I knew my sanity would be in question. Adding to this was that she also brought one of her daughter’s friends along to visit. So if you do the math, we now have 10 kids in our backyard, scratching and clawing and swinging from vine to vine.

And then it happened…

One of them had to pee. And then another. And then one wanted a drink. And then it started to rain a little bit. And then they wanted to pet the dog. And then another one had to pee. And then another one snitched that one of the others had thrown a ball at his head. And then someone cried. And then another one would walk up to the door and peer in like she wanted something and then she would go away for 20 seconds only to reappear and do the same thing over & over again.

And then it happened…

“Can we have a popsicle?” “Can we have a snack?” “Can we have something to drink?” “Do you have juice boxes?” “Can we get some ice cream?” “I want a red popsicle. Do you have one?” “My mom said I can have a juice box.” “I’m really thirsty. Can I have some water?” “Do you have a band-aid?”

And then it happened…

I snapped. And then I turned into a 74-year old curmudgeon and I started barking and basically terrorizing 10 young children. I yelled and screamed and stomped my feet and pointed and swore and tore my hair out. And then it happened…

They started to laugh at me!

So I got them all popsicles.

The End

This entry was posted in Kids, My Life, Silly Stuff and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to And Then It Happened…

  1. Blah la Blah says:

    Ah ha ha ha ha!!!! Funny and yet so true of us all!

  2. mom says:

    Watch it kid!! I’m closer to 74 than you think, and I still babysit for you!!! Better get good insurance policies for Ava and Chris if that is how a 74 year old acts!!! Just kidding—-I think! See you Wednesday.. Love…

  3. ashley says:

    That is too many kids. I’d snap too. I have no patience. speaking of no patience, I’m dying to see your finished kitchen. When are you sharing?

  4. Sounds like you handled it pretty good. I love terrorizing kids;)

    Just think if you had 10 of your own – all day, every day! We have some good friends that have 17. But a visit to their house is surprisingly relaxing – not quiet but not nutso!

  5. Ruth Ann says:

    How funny!!!!

  6. heather says:

    This scenario is played out at my house every day and I only have 3 kids here. And one is 15 and should be able to help me entertain the other 2, but she’s just as annoying. When I was a kid, we had to entertain ourselves, parents were not playmates.

  7. kcalland says:

    It’s actually spelled “curmudgeon.” And I don’t think you can really call yourself that unless you are sitting in an old woven lawn chair on your porch with a stogie hanging out of your mouth shouting, “Get outta my yard!”

    Oops! Good catch! And how do you know that I don’t sit in a lawn chair barking at the neighbor kids?

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