Monday, January 16, 2012

Dinner: The Perfect Storm

Connor was thrilled to have friend, Brock, over for a play date.

The kids enjoyed bowling on Martin Luther King Day.

The boys' latest invention: a bungee cord jump.

It was the perfect storm: four cranky boys converging around the dinner table. A few of the boys were bleary-eyed (one who bypassed a nap and another recovering from a sleepover). And, the son who craves routine survived a day filled with variation. The final son, well, he doesn't require much to enter a fray.

Their moods went from bad to worse when I unveiled dinner: pork roast. One son gazed at the steamy platter and declared it "a giant squid, cut in half and cooked." Another son accused me of inflicting "torture treatments." Just like that, the waves began to crash. It erupted into mischief, mayhem, and misconduct. I could literally feel my hair graying strand by strand during the whole ordeal.

As the meal crashed to a close, I sat hunched over the table with tears of frustration welling up in my eyes. Caleb glanced in my direction and mumbled, "Sorry for being mean and stuff."

I was flabbergasted, how very un-Caleb like. My tears of frustration turned to tears of gratitude. I said, "Caleb, I'm so touched by what you said and...."

He stopped me mid-gush, "Don't expect this to become a routine."

I'll take what I can get. It was the rainbow after the storm.

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