Blood, Sweat, and Tears
Summer is in full swing and the juices are flowing at my crazy house. When I mean juices, I mean the stuff that oozes from my boys after a long day outside with other boys. The boys are either falling and scraping or cutting something, hence the blood. It is hot and the are just dripping with sweat 24/7 here in Texas, and it wouldn’t be a normal day if someone didn’t cry (sometimes that someone is me).
We are really lucky that we live on a quiet cul-de-sac. It seems all my neighbors have also been “blessed” with boys (except the family with tomboys and that is close enough). This street is a dream for any boy. All the kids are good kids, they all have cool toys they share, and they can run the streets without worrying about people speeding down the street in their cars. The only people coming down our street, live on our street and no matter how frustrating their boys can be, they refrain from running them over with their cars.
Today, I watched as the boys had a race down the street. One boy was on foot running, the other was on a skateboard, still another was on his bike, and my boy, Jesse (one who does not run), was on his Green Machine. The mystery they were wondering about was solved. The bicycle is the fastest! Since the runner, my Chuck, did not win, tears were shed. My Green-Machiner, was perfectly fine with losing since he isn’t really concerned with winning. He is just having fun and running is not fun. Oh, my very different boys!
The days are long so the boys can play up until 9 p.m. (with a very small break for dinner around 6:30). They play everything and anything with the boys. They take apart their toys and attempt to put them back together again. They put objects behind the wheels of my car to see old toys being destroyed! I do not like this activity but by the time I back out, the damage is done. They “wash” everyone’s car which just causes mud to be created and water spots to cover my car. Nerf guns are shot, eyes are hurt, tears are shed. Bikes are rode, tricks are attempted, falls result, wounds and blood appear, and, of course, more tears are shed. There is never a day that someone doesn’t bleed and/or get hurt. If that happens that obviously means no one in the neighborhood was able to come out to play.
All this time, it is about 1000 degrees outside and it causes the boys to produce so much sweat and stink, I just want to install a shower in the front yard. Wash off the gunk and then MAYBE you can enter the house. If only…..Instead the boys come in and shower us with hugs and sweat. The smell of “boy” is so strong that I just choose the breathe through my mouth. And when I see their happy smiles, I momentarily forget the smell. The smile on the dirty face of a boy is just perfect. After this love fest, the boys go upstairs and bathe and then shower us with just sweet-smelling hugs.
The summer night winds down and I snuggle with my dog before going to bed. I resume normal breathing and I realize my dog smells pretty good compared to my boys before their showers (and sometimes AFTER). I giggle and smile because I realize that, in a boys childhood, that is exactly how it should be. Am I right or am I right?