Sometimes you look back on a situation and you just have to slap your forehead and say, 'how could I have been so dumb?' I had one of those moments yesterday after an incident which could be labelled as more or less ALL MY FAULT. No major injuries were sustained, just a little excitement at the Meyer circus. Whew.

I was helping one of the boys get ready to go back to school after lunch (yes, our children come home at lunch, aren't we lucky:) Don't know what would happen if our little darlings couldn't connect with mom for a few hours in the middle of the day as well as taste her delicious home cookin') I was namely snaping some jeans when I realized that the waistband was way too tight anyway, the knees were completely ripped out and so in great Grandpa JR Sloan style, I said, you can't wear these pants anymore, they are too small, plus they have a big rip here--and proceeded to rip the pants right in half. Growing boy, embarrassed at having been forced to show his (following word to be said in a classic Barb Rowland whisper) undies, screams (and this is where I made my mistake in evaluating my son) in what I took to be hilarity, but was actually rage. He proceeds to say, so now I'll rip yours and the chase is on. Mom, getting older in years (a grand 38), realizes the need for speed and runs, also screaming (but with glee) around the kitchen. I took refuge in the bathroom and just managed to close, ok, slam and lock the door before he got me. What happend next was a surprise for us both as his hands both came right through the glass window in the door, completely shattering it. I expected him to basically come up with two lacerated appendages but lucky for us both, he only had a few small cuts, which we bandaged up before sending him off to school a little pale. Alinya however, was inconsolable and had to be fed dark chocolate (her fave) to appease her. And to be truthful, I had a piece or two myself. All's well that ends well!