Last night we were shopping at an athletic apparel store, one in which the dressing rooms are in the middle of the store and the doors are half-doors, open at the bottom and top. My son, whom my husband sometimes calls Cletus, wanted to try on some baseball pants. He went to the dressing room door, which was closed, and threw his shoes underneath the door. Then, leaning down to crawl under the door rather than enter it the normal way (he is 10 years old), he saw a shadow, realized someone was already in the dressing room, looked at me with panic in his eyes, and ran shoeless to another part of the store to hide.
The person in the dressing room gently picked up the shoes and reached out underneath the door to place them neatly outside on the floor. Then I picked them up and ran.
Have either of us been raised right?
I don't know if it's harder to raise 3 kids right or carve 3 men in the side of a mountain. All I know is that the men in the mountain will never go anywhere, and I'm hoping the 3 kids will eventually move out on their own. This blog is devoted to nothing more than funny stories that emerge from the raising of the aforementioned three kids -- stories that are first shared with my friends to make sure they are indeed funny, and then shared with you. It is my hope that the 3 kids never find this blog or they might be a tad embarrassed.