My little Cameron has been living on the edge since the day he was born. He’s constantly finding new ways to drive me insane, but goes about it with such innocence and creativity, it’s hard not to admire his tenacity. Though there have definitely been times I’ve wanted to lock him (or me) up in a padded room where he can’t do any more damage.
Next week is spring break. We’re not going anywhere, just staying here in the tundra. He’s eight years old now so I feel like I shouldn’t have to watch him every second of the day, but I’m worried about what I’m in store for.
Here’s a retelling of one of his escapades back when he was five.June 22, 2008 So Cameron got into a little pickle the way only Cameron could, meaning he was the only one who didn’t think he was doing something potentially dangerous, disobedient, or wrong.
Saturday afternoon, our neighbor, Bob and his kids, Kacie and Brandon, went off on a bike ride to the beach.
Cameron wanted to go on a bike ride too and asked Barry, who said he would take him “in a little while.” So I was inside putting Justin to sleep, and then did some things around the house, and settled in to read for a while, thinking Cameron was out back playing baseball with David and some boys. Barry, thinking the same thing, retired downstairs to take a little nap on the couch.
A bit later, the doorbell rang. Some random guy, Murphy, was standing there with Cameron and said, “I found your kid up by Lake Susan Park on his bike. (Those of you not familiar with our area, this would require Cameron to ride all the way down our street, cross the busy Powers Boulevard, then bike up a decent-grade hill to the park. Probably a 3/4 mile trip.
I haven’t even been able to think of all the things that could have gone wrong on that trip, and I don’t think I will. Cameron is just clueless, and though he’s made several apologies, and swore not to do it again, I don’t think he even comprehends the magnitude of what he did, no matter how much we tell him what could have happened to him.
So his bike is hung up in the garage indefinitely, and he’s been confined to house arrest and can’t leave our yard for a minimum of three days. Beyond that I don’t know what the hell to do with him.
He’s seeking loopholes to his sentence. Last night he asked Brandon if he could ride his bike. Right in front of me. I said, “Um, Cameron, don’t you recall being grounded from your bike?” Today he asked his friend’s mom, Wendy, if he could ride Luke’s bike.
Someone at that point interjected that he believed this was a Brady Bunch episode when Greg was grounded from driving his parents’ car, and then drove his buddy’s car instead, and said that well, “you just said OUR car, those were your EXACT WORDS.” I recall the “exact words” thing came back to bite Greg in the ass somehow but I don’t remember how. I’m sure my sister, Kim, connoisseur of all things Brady, could clear that up.
© Jennifer Alys Windholz, 2011