my 15 yo son told me last night.
Both boys were in bed, settled in for the night. I had just discovered that Sidney had done something he has been told repeatedly NOT to do — a very small thing, that has become an unconscious habit for him and my sweet verbal reminders (for I never nag . . . AHEM) were not fixing the problem.
“What did I tell you would happen the next time I discovered that you had done . . . . .?” I asked with a devious smile.
“Oh noooooo” he lamented while his brother giggled.
“And Lincoln,” I said, “Lucy has escaped the goat pen. Did you lock her up in the barn like I asked?”
“Welllll . . . . . .” he hesitated. “I did lock her in the barn.”
Immediately, I knew the problem. “Did you also lay cinder blocks at the gate so she couldn’t dig out? You know, like I asked you to do?”
“Ummmm . . . no, . . . it was dark and I didn’t feel like . . . .” his voice trailed off. He knew nothing good would come from trying to talk his way through it.
“Well,” I said, “you get to join your brother in taking 5 laps around the house.”
Sidney laughed, glad he wasn’t going to suffer alone.
But I haven’t finished deriving as much pleasure as I can from the situation. “Since it rained, it is muddy outside. And since Lincoln did not lock up the dog the way he was told to do, Lucy is out. She DUG her way out,” I emphasized gleefully.
The boys groaned. Now, they were getting a clear picture of what it will be like to leave their comfy beds, pull on clothes to run around the house in the dark and wet with an overly exuberant and large 5- month old muddy puppy running between their legs.
“You are a terrible mother,” Sidney declared.
Lincoln giggled. Then Sidney’s face cracked and he started to laugh.
“Oh, I just love hearing that. Say it again, please,” I mock-pleaded.
“You are a terrible mother.”
Triumphant, I started to leave their room. But . . . . “By the way, every time you run past my windows, yell the number lap you are on.”
“You are a TERR-ible mother.” Sidney laughed.
“I must be. Because every time I hand out punishments, you boys don’t really seem to be suffering consequences. You rather seem to enjoy it. I must give terrible punishments.”
Moments later, I smiled contentedly as I hear the boys outside running, talking to each other and the pup, yelling their numbers as they run by.
I am truly blessed.