Saturday
morning, 7:33 AM, and my bloodshot eyes crack open at an explosion of sound
near my door. After a long week, this my only morning to sleep in, yet the
noise doesn't...stop. Experience in this host family of five children taught me to
wear earplugs to bed, yet this cacophony still pierces my combination of
pillows, plugs, and stubbornness. So I fall out of bed, pull myself upright on
the dresser, and throw some workout shorts on. I am ready to murder the noise
culprit. Door thrown open, and I see the two youngest boys at each other's
throats on the floor. I try to ask "what's wrong" but it comes out
more like "wzzz rnnng", so the kids ignore me. Ugh. My mind can't
even think coherently,
let alone verbally express my frustration at the selfishness of these little
punks. They have a whole house to fight in, and they pick the one spot right in
front of my door. Finally the truth comes out: "he stole my toy!" "No
I didn't, it's mine anyways!" "No, not fair!" Fact: parents have
to negotiate approximately 243 impromptu rulings on sibling justice every day.
God bless 'em.
So out
of nowhere, the oldest brother swoops in. He snatches the toy, declares a
smirking "...you have to share",
and runs away. The younger brothers - understandably - join together in a
chorus of "no FAAAAIR!"
 |
| This is precisely the face the younger brothers made. |
It's moments like these where kids make you simultaneously facepalm and belly laugh.