Wednesday, September 16, 2015

On Another Plane

We arrived twenty minutes early for Mac's drum lesson last night.  My idea was that we'd sit calmly in the car and work on our reading.  Maybe we'd listen to some music at the same time.  Breathe deeply, perhaps.

Soon after parking, however, the kids were out of their seats and wrestling.  The miniature van is quite large, but it doesn't really accommodate full-scale physical fitness or combat-type endeavors.

"Stop roughhousing," I commanded.

"We're not roughhousing," Mac sang.  "We're trunk diving!"

Oh fine, I thought to myself. I glanced into the rear-view and watched them hang their top halves over the back of the hatch.

Not two minutes later, there were shouts.

"He hit me!"

"He's bleeding!"

"There better not be blood on the car," I said threateningly.

The silence told me the whole story: there was blood on the car.  It's a smudge on the middle of the back of the back seat.  From dragging a leg over into the hatch while bleeding.

That's so annoying.


mm said...


LH said...

Trunk diving. Geez Louise. How much can a person really take?