Thursday, November 13, 2008

Do I look good in stripes?

Please note the vacant and bewildered look captured on the face of this referee. Now, imagine this look on my face.

Please note the red penalty card that he is waving up and down. Now, imagine me waving this wildly in front of my two children's faces. Further imagine that the wild waving has absolutely no effect whatsoever.

Today was one of those days when I felt I should trade in all my normal-person clothes and send off to Referees-R-Us for the wardrobe that I really ought to be wearing. Do you think that if I were wearing the ref stripes that they might actually listen to me? Do you think an uncommonly high pitched shrill whistle that would cause actual head pain would help?

Good night nurse!! If wasn't "he's touching me!", "he's pestering me!" or "he's not sharing!!", it had already descended in to darkness as in "he PUNCHED me!!" This was then rapidly followed by highly emotive wailing and thrashing.

The aforementioned wailing and thrashing was (and typically is) Henry's starring role in this scenario. While Henry would surely prefer to be the one doing the punching and not the wailing, his punching accuracy sucks. The most typical exchange is Henry trying to pop George. The reason for wanting to hit him is vastly wide and varied. Regardless of the motivation behind the punch, Henry's inaccurate bash is reduced to a grazing-slapish kind of thing. George's response is to cuff him back. Only where George is concerned, his aim is true and he is infinitely stronger. Plus, he's been provoked so he has anger backing his wallop. Hence, the wailing.

The other twist in this scenario is that this exchange almost always happens while I am driving and they are in the back seat. I have a sneaking suspicion that they know I cannot reach them given the configuration of the car, the length of my arms and the semi-public nature of the automobile. They know that if they try this at home, I will chase them down. Punishment is swift and sure. In the car, I am virtually impotent. The most I can do is yell. CUT IT THE HECK OUT!!! FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!!

By the time we finally arrived home everyone's knickers were in a twist. I fed the animals and moods improved. At least until the third damn time I asked them to start their homework. I've still got the ref stuff on order.

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