Looking The Other Way

I consider myself to be a fairly curious person. Not nosy, but curious. If I’m unfamiliar with a subject, I like to read about it until I’m well-informed. If something odd is happening, I like to investigate and get to the bottom of it. But being a parent of four boys has caused me to occasionally suspend that natural curiosity to preserve my peace of mind. Because if I were to take a hard look into what goes on in my house on a daily basis, I would probably not want to live there anymore.

Statements that others would definitely question are the ones where I just raise my eyebrows, ponder it for a millisecond, and go on about my business. Delving into it further would only cause me grief. Some examples.

  • “Mom, my other sock is buried in the backyard.”
  • “Mom, it’s easy for me to get things off of the roof now.”
  • “I didn’t put a golf ball down the garbage disposal.”
  • “Cameron had the saw, but he put it back when he was done.”
  • “It tickled when Penny licked my butt.”
  • “Mom, the basketball is stuck up in the tree.”
  • “Me, Cameron and Alex had a peeing race.”
  • “Do we have any of those really big Band-Aids?”
  • “I poured sand all over Alex’s head, but don’t worry, it’s all out.”
  • “Mom, I know all of the swear words now.”
  • “It would be so hard to steal from Kwik Trip because there are cameras everywhere.”
  • “Our ladder doesn’t go very high.”
  • “I was playing and had to go to the bathroom really bad so I went in the Port-a-Potty at the park.”
  • “We need a pliers.”
  • “Mom, I don’t care if the sleeves are cut off of my old tie-dye shirt.”

© Jennifer Alys Windholz, 2012

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