Keep your hands to yourself. It is the number one rule. One of many that they ignore constantly. I’m not entirely sure why I try to maintain any respectable behavior at all. It isn’t like I’m good at any kind of punishment or maintaining consistency.
The first time Jane said “shit” it was perfectly in context. I would have said shit in that scenario. She was walking along with a cup of cereal or juice or something and tripped, flinging it all over the floor. She might have been channeling my inner thoughts because I was thinking, “Great. Now I have to fix another one. Shit.”
In high school I used to play hacky sack. I would say I was casual and didn’t play religiously but we played at youth group so maybe I only played religiously? Anyway. One of the games was a variation of red dot. Basically, if you let the hacky sack drop then you stand against a wall and someone throws it at you. Duck your head and cover your junk and you will be fine. Maybe you will have a bruised kidney or something but what’s a little organ damage to a seventeen year old? So remember this game; Make a mistake = Get punished. Moving on.
There was another game called Corndog. The rules of this game were more random. If someone is standing around and oblivious to their surroundings and engaged in a discussion with someone else then using a hand in the karate chop style you would cram your victims pants into their butt crack with a vertical chopping motion and yell “CORNDOG!” This game was more about violation of physical boundaries by adolescents. I would blame this on guys but I was “introduced” to this game by a female in a group of people I had just met. Awkward. It is a strange bond to have with someone who has karate chopped a wedgie into your butt crack.
My children, whom I hoped to protect from both types of silly and unnecessary games, have nullified my efforts. Tonight I heard Threeto say out loud, “Let’s play the butthole game.” I thought to myself, sweet Jesus what sort of fresh hell is this? Naturally I rushed to investigate.
UD: Hey! What kind of game is this Butthole? It doesn’t sound like anything you should be playing.
Jane: Really dad? We have been playing for years.
UD: That doesn’t sound good.
Prima: We ask each other questions and if you get the answer wrong…
Threeto: (Forms a fist with the middle knuckle raised. Proceeds to punch herself in the butt.) BAM!
Jane: You get punched in the butthole!
UD: I… (I started to laugh because of how serious Threeto had punched herself. I felt laughing didn’t send the right message so I excused myself for a minute.) I’ll be right back. (Still laughing)
I retreated to the kitchen where Supermom was working on a cake.
UD: They are playing a game called butthole and punching each other in the butthole.
Supermom: Why are you laughing? That isn’t funny.
UD: I know right? I am so uncomfortable that I am just laughing. I will talk to them. I just need a minute.
Supermom: What is wrong with them? Good God.
I bravely walked back to the bedroom full of giggling children.
UD: Okay that’s it! No one punch anyone in the butthole!
Jane: But you were just laughing.
UD: Uuummm. Threeto had a booger. Butt punching is not funny. I wasn’t laughing at that. NO PUNCHING BUTTS!
I hope my bluff holds. The last thing anyone needs is explaining any of that weirdness.
UPDATE – I finished the top part of this last night and went to bed.
Then at 4:00 AM. A loud knocking on my bedroom door.
UD: UUUGH. What?!?
Jane: Prima needs you. She won’t stop crying.
I got up and walked into the room.
UD: What is it Prima? Why are you crying?
Prima: *sniffle* Coffins…
Prima: I’m scared of coffins.
UD: You woke me up at 4 am because you are scared of coffins?
Prima: They are scary.
UD: You are campaigning for one. Go back to sleep. (I say really crappy things when I am tired)
UD: I love you though, but stop obsessing over things and go to sleep.
Everyone went back to sleep. The next morning I talked with Jane to make sure they knew not to play any games that were awful. We all acted like nothing happened at 4am.
UD: So you girls aren’t playing the butt punching game right?
Jane: No, we are playing a better game.
UD: What is that?
Jane: Death tickles.
UD: You girls are really letting me down here. *sigh* What is death-tickles?
Jane: Threeto acts like she is tickling you but she pinches and scratches you.
UD: Don’t play that either.
Jane: Uuuugh. Can’t we do anything?
UD: Yes. Anything. Just not anything that causes physical harm.
Jane: I knew it. We can’t do anything.
I am just blaming public schools at this point.
If you think public schools are allowing your innocent angels to learn horrible games, this post is for you. You’re welcome.I agree. Surely my little angels wouldn’t come up with all this violent madness on their own.
-Underdaddy to the rescue.