CAUTION: Open windows.
Spring is a good time for airing out the house, sweeping up the cobwebs and wiping the dirt from the windowsills. Sounds great? Not when you're all used to fighting with the windows shut, preferably in the basement where no one can hear the lunacy your family is dishing out about dirty socks, the placement of forks and maybe Jacksonian Democracy.
At various points throughout the past weekend, the chaos would reach a fever pitch and spill over into the garage. The garage is a terrible place to have a brawl about who ate the last Twinkie or why the shoes were left in the middle of the kitchen for someone to trip on them. Why? The garage functions as a giant megaphone of sorts broadcasting the mayhem to the entire neighborhood. Interestingly, I never hear anyone else's kids. We must be the loudest family in a four street radius.
Tonight, however, was the MOAF (Mother of All Fights). I was gone for the evening volunteering for this and that leaving the brood to fend for themselves. Tim was in charge. Things were nutty as usual but fairly under control when I walked in the door- everything was quiet. Wow. Until...
Andrew rushed by me, wild eyed. "I can't find my science homework."
"Relax, I'll help you" I offered fresh from my evening away from home. What a fool I am.
We looked and looked. For some reason Andrew was brandishing a flashlight to look for the worksheet. We looked some more. Peter appeared at the doorway.
"I put Andrew's science homework in the trash."
WHAT?!?!?! ARE YOU INSANE????? At this point, Andrew is seething like a wolverine in a bear trap. MOAF starts NOW. Doors are slamming and we're off to the races. I hope our house is far enough away from the neighbor's and that brick is a muffler.
In a fit of weekend frustration (Probably between garage hollering sessions) Peter "placed" his brother's science homework in the trash. This child, my offspring, put the homework in the trash knowing full well that Monday morning is trash day. The homework is long gone.
Thankfully, they have the same classes and we were able to make a copy of the worksheet and save Andrew from whatever befalls sixth graders without their homework. Peter managed an earnest apology with a hug thrown in at the end.
So, enjoy the springtime flowers but don't ask why my windows aren't opened. I think we'll run the air conditioner.