The End Of Five

Somehow we managed to dodge the bullet that was named WINTER STORM WARNING FOR YOUR AREA; EXPECT HEAVY SNOW, HIGH WINDS AND MORE ICE THAN A MARGARITA STAND KNOWS WHAT TO DO WITH.  I feel like this was a blessing straight from the Lord Himself, because I wasn’t emotionally stable enough to handle more snow and more ice and more winter… OH, MY GOSH!  THE WINTER!!  We currently have a five-foot-long icicle hanging off our roof, above our deck.  It nearly reaches the deck floor, and Thing 2 has been DESPERATE to go outside and knock it down.  Hubs and I ruined his ice-slayer dreams, as I patiently explained to him the story of a boy we knew who threw rocks at a giant icicle on a building when he was thirteen, and an entire sheet of frozen ice and snow the size of an aircraft carrier slid off the roof of the commercial building and landed on his leg.

The leg which he no longer has.

He was a good friend of Sister’s when we were growing up, and we prayed him through six thousand surgeries.

Thing 2 stared at me intently and then announced, “That was the olden days, Mom.  Kids can run a lot faster now than they could in the olden days, so I could get away, if ice started to fall off the roof.  I’m a super fast runner.”

Basically, he has no self-confidence, and his self-esteem is at a rock bottom low.  Also, he feels like boys have evolved significantly since 1987, as their ability to outrun avalanches has increased exponentially every year.  Pray for this child of ours as you’re led to do.


Today I made Thing 2 wear something other than an Under Armour T-shirt and sweats, which is his wardrobe style of choice.  No matter what day of the week it is, Thing 2 usually looks like a homeless soccer player, whose biggest goal in life is to get his workout in at the gym.  Today, I ironed a REAL shirt for him to wear to church, and I laid it out with jeans.  He looked at me and asked, “Why do you want me to look weird when I go to church?”

As we passed one of our senior citizens in a hallway, while we walked to Sunday School, she said, “Oh, my!  Don’t you look handsome today!”  Thing 2 grumbled and said, “My mom made me wear this dumb shirt, and it’s itching me everywhere.”  My only surprise was that he didn’t add, “And she beats me and feeds me nothing but bread and water.”


Well… this, people, has been our very last day to be FIVE.  When we wake up tomorrow, we will have a six-year-old in the house, as we wave goodbye to Age Five and all the memories and gray hairs it brought to us.

Mam and Pa gave Thing 2 his birthday gift today, because they spoil him, and can’t bear to witness the struggle that is a kindergarten grandson waiting, waiting, WAITING for one more day to open gifts.  So… he had his LET’S CELEBRATE THE LAST DAY OF BEING FIVE YEARS OLD present this afternoon.

Mam and Pa bought Legos for Thing 2, because he’s basically in that little boy stage called IF IT AIN’T LEGOS OR A REAL ROCKET LAUNCHER THAT SHOOTS FIREBALLS, I’LL PASS.  As much as he insists otherwise, the 2018 boy isn’t any better at handling a rocket launcher than the 1987 boy was, regardless of the fact that today’s modern boy can run much faster than they could when Bon Jovi was the king of rock music.

The kid spent the entire afternoon hunkered down at the coffee table in the living room, building.  He was quiet.  He was focused.  He wasn’t jumping off our furniture or dragging out his real karaoke machine to impress us with.

In other words, this big box of Legos that Mam and Pa brought over were a gift TO ME, as well.  I had plenty of time to read a book and drink afternoon wine, except do you know what I did instead of THAT?

I cooked.

Because apparently the menfolk at our house were hungry, and I had leftover ham from my cooking endeavors a couple of nights ago, so…

… I spent my THIS SHOULD BE MY FREE TIME TO READ AND BREATHE SLOWLY AND NOT ANSWER SEVENTY-FOUR THOUSAND QUESTIONS FROM MY TALKATIVE CHILD time cutting up broccoli and celery, dicing onions and leftover ham, and mixing and stirring and shaking all kinds of spice bottles above a boiling soup pot.

Dear Mam and Pa,

Please bring another giant box of Legos soon, when no one expects me to get up and cook dinner all afternoon.



Y’all have a good Sunday night.



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