Cameron is nine. And he’s mischievous. He’s impulsive, and doesn’t think through the consequences of what he does. I can’t say he ever has malicious intentions when he does things, but he is not above throwing someone under the bus to conceal his deeds. And he enjoys getting away with something on a technicality.
Case in point. (This is not for the squeamish, so if you can’t handle a few graphic details, I’d suggest not going any further.)
Still with me? Yeah, I thought so.
Alex was using the bathroom this morning, and called over, “Mom! Come over here! There’s something bad in the toilet.”
That’s nothing you ever want to hear, so I went over to investigate. There were five Q-tips floating in the toilet. Of course Alex hadn’t bothered to tell me this BEFORE he peed on them.
David had used Q-tips shortly before that. I know this because he made a big deal about telling Cameron how he hadn’t cleaned out his ears for four months. And Cameron was acting all overdramatically grossed out when David showed him the used swabs. So it didn’t take the CSI team to determine that they were the culprits.
I demanded that one of them get in there, and properly dispose of the Q-tips. David immediately protested, saying it was Cameron who did it. And naturally Cameron also claimed innocence. Somehow David’s denials felt more credible. So I told Cameron to go take care of it.
“Mom! I swear! David was the one who used them!”
David was the one who *used* them.
“I know David used them,” I said, “but who put them in the toilet?”
Cameron didn’t answer immediately, as a smirk developed across his face. “Get in there,” I said.
“Can’t I use latex gloves or something?”
“I don’t care how you do it, just get them out before they get flushed. The last thing I need is a backed-up toilet.”
This week is spring break. That’s kind of a snapshot of what goes on about five times a day. I’ve pretty much had it with the whining, complaining, fighting, and general obnoxiousness of these four. They’re driving me insane. Pretty soon I think I’m just going to take off, and let them duke it out until all that’s left of them are bloody stumps. I’ve already served notice to my parents. Next year my husband and I are going to bask in the sun of Playa del Carmen, and these yahoos can spend a week with Grandpa Brian.
© Jennifer Alys Windholz, 2012