My 8 year old son loves balls. He also loves guns, knives and fire but those stories are for another day. His fascination with balls means that there is a good chance that a casual stroll through my house can turn into a dangerous proposition. Balls fly through the air at alarming speeds. And not just the "mother approved" balls. Oh, NO. His current favorite is a rock hard lacrosse ball that his father gave him. The walls shake when it hits one at high velocity. But really any old ball that happens to be laying within his reach is likely to be winged through the air.
His patient, easygoing mother is forever screaming for him to TAKE IT OUTSIDE! Alas, to no avail. I'd have better luck asking the sun not to rise or the autumn leaves not to fall. I even have a collection of the damned things...which he always manages to find. Yes, I do at times doubt my sanity and my intelligence. I should just throw the balls away.
Last week, in a fit antidepressant withdrawal, I took all of the broken storm windows and other assorted broken glass items to the glass shop. There was a great deal of satisfaction in knowing that there were no broken panes in the house. It lasted, what, 5 days?
There is now a lovely hole in the back door window. The door is original to the house (1927) and has 9 small panes the cover the top half of the door. And because the door weighs a gazillion pounds I can't just pop the thing off it's hinges and take it to the glass shop. Nooooooo...I have to throw myself on the mercy of my ex and beg him to replace the pane. A labor intensive job that involves re glazing and other nit-picky details. Or I could go the "to proud to beg" route and just live with the hole. Nope, that won't work. The winter is coming. Hell, it is already here. And of course, my wonderful handy-man has dropped off the face of the earth.
My son was horrified by what happened and with tears and snot running down his face swore never, ever, not in a million, trillion years to throw another ball in the house as long as he lived swear to God, Momma.
I'm going to hold him to it.
Friday, November 03, 2006
I Told Him So
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10 comments:
Let's see - in kid-scale, a million, trillion years should equal about...
...1 week. ;-)
Oh, what harmonica man said. You've got a week, tops. You'd be better off throwing the balls out the back door so he's outside when he runs across them.
oh wow, im still waiting (scared) for my first experiance of a broken window. i didnt even experiance it as a childs
with my sibling
I'd be down at Walmart buying a bushel of nerfs. Thinking about the wind whistling through your door made me go put on my slippers!
i am laughing with you, trust me. not 4 seconds after the one window in the basement was replaced this spring, a baseball found it's way into another one. and they did that one from the outside, because if you had 6 acres for a yard wouldn't you throw a baseball right toward the house? i go through windows like most poeple do socks.
Oh man. My kids haven't discovered throwing balls in the house yet. SHHHHH...let's not tell them that's it possible.
And I like Wendy's idea up there of throwing all the balls outside so he'll be outside when he finds them! :) I hope you can appeal to the ex to fix the door with your son's help of course! And the funds to fix it coming out of the Boy's allowance too!!! It's the least they both can do!
Oh, I so hate to tell you, but ball addicts don't grow out of it. My hubby bounces golf balls off his club head IN THE HOUSE. I told him if he breaks the original glass in the 90 year old secretary that his grandparents bought when they married, I would take that club and . . . well, never mind.
oh gosh, that's how they learn. sorry that happened.
Lisa
I'm glad you resisted strangling him. It must have been tempting.
Oh my goodness. I don't want kids. I can't keep up with the broken crap around our house, as it is!
I'm all about the Nerf ball idea someone suggested. That sounds like a decent solution!
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