Melinda Morley

I recently borrowed James Dobson’s book, Bringing up Boys, from the library. I’ve only read the first three pages and already I have benefited from them.

Quote: “Boys will be boys.” It went on to tell apalling stories of what some now succesful men had done as boys. I assume the intent was to make parents feel better about their own kids or maybe just to give hope -at any rate it was entertaining. Really, pouring gasoline down a manhole and blowing up the neighborhood’s toilets is hard to beat.

I don’t have a better story. -Sorry to disappoint you. Though, Friday my boys were being boys. I left the room briefly and when I came back I heard distant giggles coming from the kitchen. I thought they were huddled in the pantry. -easy hiding place, plenty of room, snacks. So I played along.

Me: “Where could those boys be?”

More snickers and laughing.

Me: “Are they in the oven?” (Their noise actually came from the oven.)

Check oven, no boys.

Me: “Are they with the pots and pans?”

Check cupboard, no boys. (though I was getting closer to their laughter and further from the pantry) (?)

Me: “Are they in the pantry?” I give up. -NO BOYS!

I open the lazy susan. No boys. Constant irrepressed laughter. I am dumbfounded. Are they behind the sheetrock? (note: my kitchen cabinets are not very big and they are full of dishes.)

“Mom,” they shout gleefully, “we’re in here!”

“What!!!”

This is where I found them:

 I can’t believe they fit.

They asked me politely to shut the door and then they spun like a Tilt-a-wirl.

Yes, my canned goods are a mess.

And what can I say?

“Boys will be boys.”