I ran across this little gem this morning. Honestly - it's one of my most prized possessions. I need to buy a shadowbox frame and hang it on my wall. I call it my "Monument to Little Boyhood." Years ago, Cameron had thrown this little plane up in the air to make it fly, and it had landed upside down in our dining room light fixture. When it never came back down, he ventured on his merry way and never gave it another thought. A while later, I smelled burning plastic and searched for the source. The seat of the plane had melted around the light bulb, becoming permanently attached. (See the melted right wheel?) The only way to get the plane down was to unscrew the light bulb. Ever since then, this little plane, with the light bulb still attached, has symbolized everything I love about my carefree little boys. Here are a few other things I love about raising a pile of little boys:
There is no such thing as being self-conscious about their appearance. Joseph was staring at himself in my make-up mirror the other morning, and I regularly find loads of self portraits captured on my phone, such as this one:
They can always entertain themselves. This was Pizza Box Battleship.
They do things like superglue a quarter to our front porch and then laugh whenever one of our guests tries to pick it up. For YEARS. It never gets old.
They take good care of their sisters.
While we were taking this girl's prom pictures...
... her brother was carrying all of her accessories and such.
There are very few problems that can't be solved with a little physical activity, like basketball...
...or dog wrestling.
They now carry all of my heavy stuff, reach items on high shelves, and open my car door whenever I drive them somewhere, and most of all, remind me not to take anything too seriously. Sure love these little rowdies of mine.