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OT: Parents will appreciate this story.

Chad Thorne

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Chris is my oldest and dearest friend in the world. We've been friends since high school. Chris married a French woman and lives there now, teaching English and writing at a local college. He has, with his daughter Sandra, three boys, three-year-old twins and a younger boy, Sam. He e-mailed me this story this morning:


"Saturday, my twins, David and Kevin, saw me puttering around in the garden. Pruning, harvesting, and watering a few plants. I did not really take note of their observation. And to be honest, they seemed occupied: running around screaming, punching each other and their younger brother Samuel, playing on the swing set and messing around with dirt. When I brought them inside at the end of the afternoon Maguy, my wife, seemed very pleased that they were covered in caked on mud.-)).

The next day, Sunday, I had to prepare for my English lessons and hadn't much time to fool around with the kids. Basically, I threw them outside and hoped for the best. Sam stayed inside and played with little toy cars. Something was nagging me. When I looked outside, I saw David and Kevin watering my plants with steaming hot water from a watering can. At the tap, apparently, they turned on only the hot water. Heaven only knows how they did not burn themselves. I guess they are pretty handy. But a lot of the plants were drooping or worse.

I was not happy and confiscated the watering can. I admonished them sternly to never touch the faucet or the watering can again without my permission. They kept repeating "oui papa", "oui papa" at the right moments. Relieved and certain that all was well I went inside and worked on correcting papers. About an hour and a half later, Maguy asked me if I had given the boys all those empty bootles to play with?

"What the poop!" I exclaimed as I went outside. David & Kevin had taken my advice to heart and had not used the fauct nor watering cans. Nooooo, they had found another way to continue to water the plants. In the garage we keep supplies of milk, fruit juices, canned goods etcetera. They had emptied all of the plastic milk bottles and were working on the cartons of fruit juice. Ergo, the boys had watered my garden with prodigious amounts of milk. But at first it did not seem that way. I thought of all the waste, and how you can never understand the mind of a three year old. I stood and surveyed the milky mess.

Our dog was having a field day, licking all the plants, trees, and bushes in my garden. Sam, who had followed me out, was very unhappy that I stopped him from playing in the milky mud. I gave the twins an earful on the subject of insane behavour, until I finally figured out that they had just wanted to finish the job they had started. And then I laughed.








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I recall an egg fight when I was four that took place in the basement of two friends whose father had decided to make some money selling eggs. I don't know how many flats we went through, but neither their dad or mine were very happy at all. The basement was covered with raw eggs, and so were we. I still recall the whipping I got for that.


On the plus side, my hair was very soft for several days after...

Always remember that you�re unique. Just like everyone else.




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As much as I love my (someday-to-be-)brother-in-law's kids and love playing with them, I'm always glad to be able to give them back to their parents. :smile:


That's the advantage of being a grandparent, too.

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Where would we be without any rules?






If you left three children under 3 unsupervised for that length of time in the UK you'd have the social services banging down your door. They got into the garage and helped themselves to bottles of stuff?


Lucky it wasn't petrol.


I wonder how bad that garden smelt when the milk started to go off. :D

Feel the groove internally within your own creativity. - fingertalkin


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