Chatting with the clerk in the grocery store yesterday, somehow the topic of being kids and discipline came up. She made a very interesting observation when she said, "I was just thinking the other day, and wondering why I always seemed to think Dad was going to kill me?" I had to laugh because I remember the times as a kid when you had done something you shouldn't have and the first words out of your mouth were "Dad and Mom are going to kill me!" Most kids seem to be under the impression that Dad is more likely to kill them then Mom. Maybe because of his size? 😂
The conversation immediately brought to mind my favorite instance of kids being certain that their parents were going to commit filicide.
I should probably give a little bit of back story. I was born quite a while after my siblings so there wasn't a huge age gap between myself and my nephews and nieces. I was viewed as not only an aunt but also kind of an accomplice. Ha ha!
I was around 22 (?)and I was in a bit of a transition since my roommate had taken a new job in a different town and I had moved in with my sister and brother in law till I could find another place. I got off of work before them so I watched my nephews until they got home. The stage is set......😉
The room I occupied at my sister's was directly across from my nephews. I should also say that some painting and home improvements had been taking place. My nephews had been horsing around being typical boys this particular afternoon. I had gone in my room and shut the door for some reason,(seeking peace and quiet probably 😜). I soon heard a commotion taking place outside my door.
I opened my door to the sight of my nephews standing frozen in place, their eyes huge, the younger of the two still poised with a paint can upside down over his head with gray/blue paint cascading down said head and covering his body and pooling on the carpeted floor. Apparently he had picked up the paint can to pretend throw it at his brother....and.....the lid.....you get the idea. I wish so much I could have got a picture.
I hustled the youngest in to the tub and started trying to figure out how to get oil based paint to wash off of him and out of the carpet. Meanwhile my older nephew is pacing/running around the house like a little bantam rooster or something like that. He kept coming up to me as I was trying to get his brother clean to check the status of things and to inform me "Aunt Carla, we have to go!! We need to pack!! We've got to go, Dad and Mom are going to kill us!! We've got to go!! 😂😂 It was incredibly hard not to roll around on the floor laughing.
What made it even funnier was that I knew that his we didn't mean just his brother and him, it included me. Maybe he thought I was guilty by association? Maybe he had presence of mind even in his frantic state to escape certain death 😂 to know that they would need someone adultish along. They would need funds for sure!
As all this chaos was taking place and I was trying so hard not to laugh and to handle the situation, I realized just how much I loved the little goobers (still love them as big ones 😉)and that if it had been necessary I would have left with them, which of course wasn't even close to being necessary! I was honored to be trusted and included in their runaway plan. As it was, I was glad to be able to stand in the gap and explain why my younger nephew and the carpet were a pale shade of blue!
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