I’m raising Goofus and Gallant

I’m at a loss. The boys are trying to drive me batshit crazy, I’m sure of it.

We took Rosie the Bagel Dog for a walk this afternoon. It’s chilly out, and windy, and I was less than thrilled to go, but they begged. And I caved, because she and I could use the exercise and it would break up the day. It was a short walk, only to the inline hockey rink in the park behind our house and back. At least, that was the plan.

We headed back home. A sped ahead on his scooter, J fell behind and I waited for him to catch up. We got back home and…no A. No A in the backyard. No A on the school blacktop. No A hiding in the neighbor’s yard. No A anywhere.

I got Rosie and J back into the house and figured if A didn’t show up soon (I figured he was hiding) I’d search. That lasted about a minute before I locked them into the house…oh, and did I mention that Tom is in Utah? Yeah…sigh… I locked them in the house and headed off down the block.

And heard, “Mom! Hey MOOOOMMMM!!!! I’m down here!!!!”

Little shit was three blocks away at the tot park.

I high-tailed it up there and he scampered to the top of the rock climbing arch.

“Dude, you have no idea how much trouble you are in.”

The kid he was playing with looked more frightened than A did.

I grabbed his scooter and helmet and his wrist and dragged him home. He’s grounded til schooltime Monday morning, not to leave his room. His scooter is in hock for a week. And if he rolls his eyes at me again (like he did at the park and is damned lucky that there were other kids there) he’s going to lose a lot more.

And what did I find when I unlocked the front door? J playing with matches? A dog ripping up couch cushions? A wild popsicle-snarfing party?

A four year old practicing the violin he proclaimed to hate three days ago.

They’re messing with me. I’m raising Goofus and Gallant.

Amended: Heh. Just looked outside. Full moon. Shit.