Finally, at days end, in order to survive those last few minutes before bedtime, we decided to do a couple of puzzles. The first one went rather well, although everyone was disappointed to find we were missing a piece. But only one, and for our house, that’s pretty much a complete puzzle.
As I was saying, the first one went well, and I was lulled into allowing “Just one more” before the jammies went on. I briefly left Maw Maw in charge of round two of puzzle time, only to have my nerves jangled mere moments later by the sound of screaming. Here’s how Linda remembers it:
Tom, an acknowledged puzzle savant, had rapidly put together roughly 9/10 of the rocket ship picture, leaving Will holding the lone remaining piece.
Maw Maw: O.k., Tom. Now let Will put in his piece.
Tom: No!!! I wanna do it.
Will: No! Me!
Tom lunges for the prized “Last Piece”, but Will is wiley and quick. A last minute barrel roll leaves him on his feet and poised for flight.
“Run, Will! Run!!!” Jack yells in encouragement.
Will sprints around the floor-sized puzzle searching for an opening. Tom counters by throwing himself prone across the entire thing, successfully blocking Will’s attempt to outflank him. Maw Maw drags a struggling Tom to a seemingly safe distance, allowing Will the window of opportunity he needs to triumphantly slam the final piece into place.
Thinking the danger has passed, Maw Maw loosens her grip and an enraged Tom breaks free. Once again he descends on the puzzle, this time to violently scatter the entire mess across the living room.
The resulting cries of outrage and horror summon me at a dead sprint. Tears were dried, punishment was quickly administered, and bedtime was immediately declared.
And that, my friends, is why you don’t see a whole lot of parenting advice on The Drunch these days. If I ever do get it all figured out, I promise you’ll be the first to know.
That sounds just about right for boys. It only gets worse. They learn how to punch.