Dead Meat

I am about to be in trouble.

It all started with this son.

Yes, this one.

And, of course, this one.

This child was never meant to live in a subdivision.  Never meant to politely walk the dog down the street, quietly swing in the backyard, and never, ever allow the kickball to be kicked into the neighbor's yard.

No, he was meant to be out on some acreage somewhere, shooting his Airsoft gun, riding a 4-wheeler, climbing trees and biking up mountains.

And I tell him "no" all the time.

But this one time he and his friend asked to go out on the roof and up the roof and just sit there and feel the wind blow in their hair and talk about all the wild and daring adventures they would have if they only just could.

And after holding out for quite a long time, I finally said "yes," out loud to him and then spent a while muttering to myself little things like, "no one will ever know" . . . "it's only just this once" . . . and "if life were fair he would be somewhere rappelling down a mountain anyway."

I allowed it for one-half hour.  I watched to make sure they were calmly sitting.  I let them have their adventure.And then I called them down and thought smugly to myself that indeed I had gotten away with some quite bad mothering.

That was Friday.

And now it's Saturday.  And I have just seen my vocal and opinionated Dear Neighbor walking across the front lawn and engaging My Husband in conversation.  I see her wildly gesturing toward the peak of the roof.  I see her extending her arms and waving them up and down.  I see her stamping her foot and resting her hands aggravatedly on her hips.  (She's actually a wonderful neighbor to have when there are pot holes to be filled or prowlers spotted or the electricity goes out.  Quite wonderful indeed.)

The problem is that My Husband does not exactly see eye-to-eye on Middle Son's need for adventure and challenge.  He comes from good, sensible Midwestern stock.  Common sense, dependable people that do things like put shoes on when they go outside, push their chairs up to the table when they have completed their meal, and put away tools when they're through using them.

 

This dear man will not understand me letting Middle Son up on the roof for an adventure.

Yep, I'm about to be dead meat.