Kids will be Kids, I guess...LOL
I honestly don't know how I get caught up in the kid drama that fills the air of this neighborhood almost daily. I think it is because I am the only parent most times who is actually outside with my kid when I can and keep an eye on him. So, I feel like the neighborhood kid drama police at times. I have settled minor arguments about balls, rules for playing ball, throwing balls, sitting on strangers cars, crawling in the sewers, and racing to the corner store in 90 degree heat. I have handed out popsicles, juice boxes, sandwiches and pizza slices to just about every kid in the neighborhood many times.
Yesterday took the cake with the kid drama so far. These kids across the street were playing with a ball as old as their granny. It was an old, old ball. They had kicked it, threw it, rolled it, kicked it again, and kicked it as high in the air as it could go several times all in an hour or so. Then they were summoned to load in the car to get haircuts at the barbershop. I guess getting ready to go back to school haircuts. So, seeing that my son didn't need a haircut right now I told him to come inside until they came back. I figured that by the time they came back they would be off to their football practice, which my son doesn't go to. I must admit I was doing the happy dance cause I needed a break from the noise and so did my mom. I was right a couple hours later they returned heads shaved almost. The first thing they do is run to the front yard and grab the ball. The used and abused ball was almost flat. Common adult sense would tell you why. It is old. Enough said. But, in a kid mind someone had to flatten it and that someone had to be my son since he was the only one not getting a haircut.
The leader of the crew, that is what I call him since he is the bossy one and has given himself the title of the "mature one" at 8 years old mind you. He comes and knocks on the door and asks for my son. He said he needed to speak to him man to man. I laughed at that one. Neither of them at 8 and 10 are close to being men but I said okay here he is. He proceeds to ask my son if he flattened, almost flatten the ball. He said no. But, the three who went to get haircuts had it all figured out. They assumed that when they were gone he stayed behind just to play with the 100 year old ball and secretly flattened it and put it back in their front yard so when they came back they would not have that ball to play with and it was all his evil plan for calling him a baby last week.
I found myself in the middle of all of that and explained calmly to them that the ball was old, nothing last forever and it is just a matter of science why it was getting flat. They accepted my explanation and went inside to get dressed for their practice.
Well, all is quiet now. And I am doing the back to school countdown for them. I miss the calm and quiet of the fall afternoons when they are all in school and probably causing playground dramas. Kids will be kids though.
Yesterday took the cake with the kid drama so far. These kids across the street were playing with a ball as old as their granny. It was an old, old ball. They had kicked it, threw it, rolled it, kicked it again, and kicked it as high in the air as it could go several times all in an hour or so. Then they were summoned to load in the car to get haircuts at the barbershop. I guess getting ready to go back to school haircuts. So, seeing that my son didn't need a haircut right now I told him to come inside until they came back. I figured that by the time they came back they would be off to their football practice, which my son doesn't go to. I must admit I was doing the happy dance cause I needed a break from the noise and so did my mom. I was right a couple hours later they returned heads shaved almost. The first thing they do is run to the front yard and grab the ball. The used and abused ball was almost flat. Common adult sense would tell you why. It is old. Enough said. But, in a kid mind someone had to flatten it and that someone had to be my son since he was the only one not getting a haircut.
The leader of the crew, that is what I call him since he is the bossy one and has given himself the title of the "mature one" at 8 years old mind you. He comes and knocks on the door and asks for my son. He said he needed to speak to him man to man. I laughed at that one. Neither of them at 8 and 10 are close to being men but I said okay here he is. He proceeds to ask my son if he flattened, almost flatten the ball. He said no. But, the three who went to get haircuts had it all figured out. They assumed that when they were gone he stayed behind just to play with the 100 year old ball and secretly flattened it and put it back in their front yard so when they came back they would not have that ball to play with and it was all his evil plan for calling him a baby last week.
I found myself in the middle of all of that and explained calmly to them that the ball was old, nothing last forever and it is just a matter of science why it was getting flat. They accepted my explanation and went inside to get dressed for their practice.
Well, all is quiet now. And I am doing the back to school countdown for them. I miss the calm and quiet of the fall afternoons when they are all in school and probably causing playground dramas. Kids will be kids though.
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