Wednesday, March 07, 2007

BOY, noun: a noise with dirt on it.

We spent Sunday afternoon at my brother-in-law's because my nephew, Wyatt, was baptized. They have 5 boys, and their mother, Erica, showed me this definition. Perfect. Just as a comparison and contrast, I walked past the bathroom the other day and about keeled over dead from the smell. The door was open, the light was on, and the fan had not been turned on. I asked who did this out loud, and the answer was "One of the boys". I turned the fan on, sprayed some air freshener, and closed the door, wondering, but not really, whether they had washed their hands. The very next morning as I was in the shower, I hear a little knock on the door. Maren asked if she could come in and use the bathroom. I told her she could. A minute passed and I hear, "Oh, sorry, Mom, its a little stinky in here, so you better plug your nose." I didn't smell a thing. Then she flushes, washes her hands and says, "I'll turn the fan on for ya! Have a nice shower!", and closes the door. I was laughing and shaking my head at the difference.
"Boys are God's way of letting you know your house is too organized"
I spent last week and yesterday putting together the boys' room and a set of bunkbeds. Brandon was out of town, so I just dug in and built stuff. I love to construct things, so I was excited. I believe I get it from my Dad, the engineer. Show me a set of instructions and a box of parts and, heart pounding, I can't get started fast enough. Anyway, back to the boys. Ages 8 and 11, they are paper and rock collecting, busting to get outside, dirty clothes on the floor right next to the laundry basket throwing, can't find my shoes yelling, haircut and shower avoiding, holes in their socks and knees required, please, please change your underwear men, with a tiny toy fascination. OH, how I love them! So, I organized shelves with baskets of all sizes for the treasures, rows of books for them to read and then find a week later at the bottom of their bed, a huge jar to show off their sea shells and rocks, a hamper full of beloved stuffed animals they are too old to have on their bed, but too young to part with, and a desk with adequate lighting so they can pile their papers and not have room to do their homework. An over-the-door shoe organizer holds Star Wars and Bionicle figures, and Jacob's side of the closet has a low-hanging bar he can just toss his shirts over, because hangers are beyond him. I will get them some hooks for their robes and a bulletin board for the papers and pictures, and we have ordered an air purifier for Braeden's ease of breathing down in the dusty basement. And they are so excited, I bet they keep it clean a whole afternoon!

1 comment:

Trev said...

When I was a kid, I had the nicknames "pigpen" and "dirt magnet". Boys (and some girls) just seem to fall into the dirt wherever they are.