Had I’d known the impending insanity that was about to go down that evening in the department store, I may have reconsidered sharing my thoughts on motherhood. I had run into a friend at the grocery store. As we caught each other up on how the kids were doing, I made the mistake of saying that motherhood was ‘so much better’ now that the boys were older. I rambled on about how I didn’t do well with the boys in their younger days but now, apparently, motherhood was as light and free as a cool fall breeze.
Naturally, when I took my boys to get T.Puzzle some new shoes after dinner (seriously?!? how do boys destroy sneakers in only two month’s time?), the boys were in full-on circus mode. There was a lot, and I mean A LOT, of racing about to see if the new shoes made T.Puzzle fast, and for the record, they did. Full Speed kept hiding behind stacks of shoes and then would jump out in an ambush stance aiming a pretend gun at me. T.Puzzle carried it further by trying to dance with one of the mannequins in the women’s department, and no, So You Think You Can Dance will not be calling our house anytime soon.
By the time I reached check-out, I was pretty much done in. The woman behind me empathized and tried to encourage me. I told her it was my own fault that I had falsely created a reality in which I believed my boys to be calm, normal humans who could walk among society in a civilized fashion.
Maybe my next conversation about motherhood I need to share the opposite. I will tell whoever asks me that my boys are like crazy, rogue ninjas that answer only to some unseen force that compels them to misbehave.
Somehow, I think this would only wind up as an accurate description of a typical day.