My sister called tonight. And about three minutes in, I'm sure she wished she hadn't.
You see, I live in a house of monkeys. The screaming and squealing and hooting and hollering is one thing. My delightful brother in law could hear them - and neither the boys nor my brother in law were on the phone. And the noise? Only rivaled by the climbing and rolling and leaping and wrestling. If they aren't monkeys, then they are certainly puppies.
Some days it's more than I can take. But today all I could do was laugh. It's the utter joy and delight that they find in this activity. The laughter that accompanies it wells from a place utterly deep in their bellies. All I can do is watch out for flying limbs and unruly drool.
While the youngest is just starting to grin and proudly announce, "I tooting!", the oldest is now finding great humor in all things potty humor. Especially at the dinner table. And don't tell him I told you, but my dear husband seems to find amusement in this behavior also.
It's a strange planet. But I'm glad I live here. It challenges me to take greater risks, play a little harder, and cheer louder than I thought possible.
And if you need a good scream, you're welcome to my House of Boys any time.
2 comments:
I was happy I called and could take part in some small way. I love your boys and all that comes with them!
What is it about boys?! It takes such an adjustment for us moms, but they really do just LOVE to be monkeys. I'm so glad you can embrace it. I struggle to do so a lot of time. :)
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