The other day, I had a five-minute gap in child care. My friend Liz picked up Mark, along with her son Sean, and dropped them off at my house.
I told Liz I was 8 minutes from home--I was about to exit the freeway. She agreed to leave the boys at the house, and because they aren't toddlers and I was close, we both felt okay with our decision.
Until...I called the house. I'd just hung up with Liz, and called to tell Mark to start his homework. But no one answered. I called three times. I began to sweat a little, then yelled at myself for being such a worry-wort. They probably just went outside to play in the backyard, I reasoned, or they were too lazy to get up from the Wii and bean bag chair to answer. (They are obsessed with a skateboarding video game, in which they spend all their time crashing and competing to see who can break the most bones in their body. At the end of each crash, a legend shows all the broken bones in red.)
Anyway, I didn't worry too long, because I turned the corner and was home. I opened the door, saw the two boys parked in front of the Wii, and exhaled a big sigh of relief.
Until...I saw this:
I told Liz I was 8 minutes from home--I was about to exit the freeway. She agreed to leave the boys at the house, and because they aren't toddlers and I was close, we both felt okay with our decision.
Until...I called the house. I'd just hung up with Liz, and called to tell Mark to start his homework. But no one answered. I called three times. I began to sweat a little, then yelled at myself for being such a worry-wort. They probably just went outside to play in the backyard, I reasoned, or they were too lazy to get up from the Wii and bean bag chair to answer. (They are obsessed with a skateboarding video game, in which they spend all their time crashing and competing to see who can break the most bones in their body. At the end of each crash, a legend shows all the broken bones in red.)
Anyway, I didn't worry too long, because I turned the corner and was home. I opened the door, saw the two boys parked in front of the Wii, and exhaled a big sigh of relief.
Until...I saw this:
"What's the trumpet doing on the table?" I asked, perplexed.
Mark didn't even look up from the T.V. "Oh, Sean and I wanted to play together."
Confused silence on my part.
"I wanted to play my trumpet while Sean played his saxophone," Mark clarified.
I didn't want to ask the next question. I already knew the answer, which worried me. But I couldn't help myself--the words came out on their own.
"How'd you get the trumpet down?" I asked. It was on the highest shelf possible, behind three levels of precariously placed chairs, boxes and other junk in the disaster that is my garage. I'm nervous climbing up that high on the ladder, and instinct told me Mark didn't bother with a ladder.
"I climbed," he answered, confirming my fears.
Mark didn't even look up from the T.V. "Oh, Sean and I wanted to play together."
Confused silence on my part.
"I wanted to play my trumpet while Sean played his saxophone," Mark clarified.
I didn't want to ask the next question. I already knew the answer, which worried me. But I couldn't help myself--the words came out on their own.
"How'd you get the trumpet down?" I asked. It was on the highest shelf possible, behind three levels of precariously placed chairs, boxes and other junk in the disaster that is my garage. I'm nervous climbing up that high on the ladder, and instinct told me Mark didn't bother with a ladder.
"I climbed," he answered, confirming my fears.
I instantly pictured him scurrying up the shelves in the garage, which was similar to climbing an oversized Jenga game. I pictured him tumbling backwards in slow motion, and the image culminated in a busted head on a busted boy with a trumpet splayed out from its case on top of his chest. And the next image was a video screen of all Mark's broken bones in red.
I shook my head to erase those images. I reminded myself the boys, inexplicably, were safe and whole.
Liz couldn't believe the story either, when I told her.
"I sat outside the house for five minutes!" she exclaimed.
"I know!" I said. "And I was home two minutes after that. They worked so quickly."
We both shook our heads. Turns out no matter how well we know these two boys, we will never really understand them. Or what motivates them, other than an impromptu brass band jam session.
I have no idea how fear-nothing boys live long enough to grow into men. I just hope that the guardian angels who help do that keep buzzing around Mark and Sean for a long time to come.
I shook my head to erase those images. I reminded myself the boys, inexplicably, were safe and whole.
Liz couldn't believe the story either, when I told her.
"I sat outside the house for five minutes!" she exclaimed.
"I know!" I said. "And I was home two minutes after that. They worked so quickly."
We both shook our heads. Turns out no matter how well we know these two boys, we will never really understand them. Or what motivates them, other than an impromptu brass band jam session.
I have no idea how fear-nothing boys live long enough to grow into men. I just hope that the guardian angels who help do that keep buzzing around Mark and Sean for a long time to come.
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