We herd our children to the dining room table to eat a delicious meal of steamed-in-a-bag edamame and boil-for-seven-minutes tortellini as a family. My son takes one bite and asks to leave.
He hasn’t even sat down in his chair yet.
Me: Sit down please and eat.
E sits then jumps up.
Me: Sit down now please.
E: But I have to pee!
My sternness is often foiled by the bladder.
Me: Fine, go and come back please.
Two minutes later there’s a commotion to my left, and I am greeted by a completely naked boy (because pulling up pants post-pee is EXHAUSTING) who is climbing the wall.
Scott and I are quite impressed, which completely backfires because my kids come from a long line of I CAN DO THAT TOO, LOOK AT ME!, and LET’S ALL DO SOMETHING WEIRD.
Without anyone saying a word, my family begins to congregate in the door frame.
And yes, N pulled her chair over to the wall instead of climbing it, and she was no less proud. NOR WAS I.
I love my crazy family even when the climbing of the walls is more figurative.