I thought raising two boys was going to be easier than a boy-girl pair. hand-me-downs to save money, sharing a bedroom, and once boy #2 came around, I figured I'd know what I was in for. Turns out having two boys in the house, no matter how hippy-dippy pacifist you try to raise them, is sort of like gladiator training camp. Boys don't just scream. Or rather, they do, but they swing while vocalizing. What starts out as a disagreement over what to watch on youtube escalates into a full-scale ground war by the time you can make it across the living room. If I could choose a super-power, it would be stretchy arms, like Mr. Fantastic.
The good news is that, in spite of all the bloodshed, they ADORE each other.
The computer was playing a photo slideshow tonight, and we stopped on one from several years ago where Jack was sitting on the bathroom floor, crying. It sounds kind of awful that I would take a picture of this, and I guess it is. I thought he looked cute.
Isaac says, brightly, "I think he is crying because I PUNCHED him in the FACE!"
Jack's eyes stay on the screen as he smiles crookedly and nods his head. "I think you're right, Isaac. I think you're right!"
No comments:
Post a Comment