The Sisterhood is a place to bring your cup of coffee to. Heck, bring the whole pot :). Sit down, relax, and fall in for a while. No divas or meanies allowed. It's about boy brain, kiddos, food, one crazy labrador, autism and a cat in recovery from a back tire incident. Oh the places you'll go :)

A Boy Brain Morning…

on October 9, 2012

It should have been simple.

Knowing my ten year old as I do and understanding how heavily he has been dosed with a triple helping of boy brain, I should have known it wouldn’t be simple.  At our house, nothing ever is.  We live under the expectation of Murphy’s Law…what can go wrong probably will or, at least, we will deviate from the easiest path.

It’s simple that when you have a dog, there will be poop.  We love our Red Girl (her pics are posted under ‘furry kiddos’) and we try to keep the yard clean for her and for the man who is kind enough to cut our lawn.  Tuesday morning, no matter what has happened during the rest of the week, is poop pick up day.

It’s pretty straight forward.  Not too complicated.  Right now, as the quarterly chores have just changed, my ten year old is responsible for that lovely duty…really, no pun was intended.  So when he came back inside the house, rather quickly I might add and knowing the gate is locked and the trash can is on the outside of the gate, I have to ask some questions.

He is already dressed in his school clothes so I take a look to make sure he  has not made a mess of his shoes or his pants and then I ask, “Did you finish?”

“Yeah, I’m done.”

Not sure if the bag-o-pooh has been hid in the backyard or if he is pulling my leg altogether and telling a fib, I ask, “Where’s the bag?  Did you put it in the trash?”

“Yeah, like always.”  It sounds plausible but, being his mother, I know this boy.  This is also my only child, out of the three, who is street smart and skilled at telling lies.  Not too long ago, he told me, “Do you know how to make people believe you when you’re telling a lie?”

I cringed when I heard the question but, of course I went along because I want to know the answer.  I stiffened my backbone a bit as I answered, “No, buddy, how?”

“You have to say the lie with confidence.  Say it like it’s true,” he tells me.  He’s right and I know this first hand because I have been lied to by this child and I will attest to the fact that he is the master.  Not something I am proud of but, after three kids, I have learned that you cannot control everything.  No doubt my heart broke a bit when I heard his response but I know this kid and, because of his skills, I am a great detective.  I believe nothing.  I have even developed some mad interrogation skills.  I am good and I do not blink…ever.

Not believing that he has completed his chores (since I know very well that the trash can is not easily accessed while the gate is locked) I ask, “How did you put it in the trash if the gate is locked?”

For a moment he hesitates and I wonder what shrub the bag may be hidden under but then he says, “I didn’t use the gate.”

Panicking for a moment, I ask, “You did not bring it through the house did you?”

“Of course not,” he says as though he has never done that when I know he clearly has because I caught him midway through my carpeted living room when he tried.

“Then how did you put it in the trash?”

“I climbed the fence,” he tells me.

That I would believe because, while I have mad interrogation skills, the boy has some mad climbing/monkey skills.   He is the one, after all, who figured out how to climb the palm trees with a hammer and rope so  the six foot fence was probably nothing for him.  And, just as I am about to say something disciplinarian in nature and need the handy-dandy rewind button after, I stop…because that is the beauty of boy brain.  Boy brain solves problems.

“The garage door was locked, Mom, and so was the gate and I didn’t want to bring it through the house so I climbed the fence.”

He was right.  It may not have been solved the way us girls would have done it but the problem was solved and I have to say he didn’t let any obstacles stand in his way…not even the fence.



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