My parents wisely installed a pool at their house to insure that their children would always be within a close proximity, at least during half of the year. Even if their children don’t want to come over, their grandchildren would, if only to swim. And so I find myself almost drug by my children into my parents’ pool quite often.
This last weekend my mother broke out the barbeque. She ran the barbeque because my father was busy installing the new door she wanted. She also enticed my children over which in turn looped me into helping my father and brothers with the door. The truth be told, I did very little.
The most help I lent to the project was to chase my children away from the construction and back into the pool. It felt like herding ducks back and forth. They all seemed to scatter when I approached and I had to catch them one at a time and toss them back into the water. Yet, their curiosity kept pulling them back to the sound of hammers and nails.
Thankfully the door was finished about the same time as the hotdogs. Children, sopping wet, waited in line for hotdogs right off the grill. As they munched their meal, they formed up another line to inspect the new door. Once they had approved it, they found their own places on the deck to eat.
In the relative calm, my mother was picking up loose tools to help put them away. When she came across a cup filled with nails she inquired where it should be put. My youngest brother responded, “Don’t worry about it mom. Those are bad nails.”
My mother set the paper cup down on a chair to toss into the trash later. My children heard something about “bad nails” that drew their interest. They again formed their own line to peer into the cup one at a time to see what “bad nails” looked like. After satisfying their curiosity they again set down to finish their meal.
It never ceases to amaze me how children can at times be so civilized, yet, be so disordered at other times. And people wonder why I am already turning gray.