The Bigger They Get

There’s nothing like ‘em. I’ve been using them for years and I highly recommend them.

When I’ve found Other People’s Kids hanging around, I’ve recruited them to they take out the trash, move furniture, change light bulbs, build a patio, paint, etc… They, unlike my own kids, are too polite to say no and their assistance with household chores makes my own kids feel obligated to help too, so it’s a total win-win.

Additionally, helping out also makes Other People’s Kids feel right at home, which I love. They become part of the family. Having them walk into our home, fix themselves sandwiches, and sit and gab with us is a lot of fun. We especially enjoyed it during the years when we were the last people on Earth our own kids wanted to talk to.

There is one caveat: Other People’s Kids have a way of stealing our hearts. For example, Daughter’s best friend from her undergrad days has, over the years, become Our Other Daughter and I couldn’t love her more if I had given birth to her myself. Our Other Daughter, like Daughter, just left for grad school in the Midwest so we caravaned with her last weekend on Our Big Road Trip. Along the way, we stopped in Indiana to pick up our friend’s daughter who is Our Other Other Daughter and a total sweetheart. She was a huge help with the move and it was an absolute joy to spend time with her. Saying goodbye to THREE much loved daughters last weekend was extra hard.

Fortunately, we had The Boys to keep us laughing. And they did. They worked hard moving Daughter into her apartment, see?

Untitled from The Bigger They Get on Vimeo.

And then they spent the rest of the weekend being knuckleheads. Because it’s what they’re best at. They did Schwartzenegger impressions non-stop, making the trip across Ohio seem to take longer than it would to cross the Sahara barefoot. On hot coals. Twice. They mocked us, their loving mothers, and begged us to stop at fireworks stands. We, being weak and partial to fireworks ourselves, caved.

This Fireworks stand is across the street from a little roadside gas and eat place that sold deep fried brownie bites and fried pickles.

Fortunately, we’re not that weak.

At one point, The Boys found a Shocking Lighter and proceeded to use it ON THEMSELVES. Because they’re smart like that. Watch:

Zapp 2 from The Bigger They Get on Vimeo.

And then there’s this one:

Zap 1 from The Bigger They Get on Vimeo.

That laughter in the background? I will admit that is us, their mothers. We don’t normally encourage our boys to do stupid things - in fact, when we are in control of all our faculties, we typically discourage such behavior for all the good it does, but it had been a long, emotionally and physically draining weekend and we were too drunk tired and giddy to put a stop to their tomfoolery. Fortunately it doesn’t appear they zapped anything vital.

Or if they did, we haven’t noticed.

…Dad is fair game again. I was telling Son Two about the security guard in the little shack at the entrance to the nursing home yesterday who made an officious fuss about stopping my car and making me sign his clipboard before allowing me to enter the compound.

I don’t know; maybe he did this because it’s common security guard knowledge that middle aged women in blue Dodge Caravans with OFFICIAL NURSING HOME VISITOR PASSES on their dashboards are highly suspicious and support foreign terrorists in their bid to infiltrate every eldercare facility on American soil. But I doubt it.

“What I just don’t get,” I whined to Son Two, “is why he stopped me and made me sign in when he just let Dad drive right on through.”

“Well,” says Son Two, “he probably thought Dad was a resident.”

Son Two is currently my favorite child.

Everybody needs a little Monday sparkle, no? This is part of the ceiling at Tavern on the Green in Central Park. We had a lovely, touristy, very expensive lunch there a few weeks back. The totally delicious ceiling made my $24 club sandwich SO worth it. The luscious waiter didn’t hurt either.

Today? Bologna on white at my desk.

Oh well.