Just after posting about "permissive parents," I went off to swim at the YMCA, leaving some of my younger ones in the capable hands of soon-to-be high school grad, Lizzy.
Little did I know that while I swam, my 9 year-old bundle of energy, Paul, decided to try out his new kite in the backyard. I'm sure I've told him a million times why we don't fly kites in the backyard, but we take them to the lake to fly. But he thought since today was a particularly gusty day (winds in excess of 23 mph), he'd give it a go.
While he was getting tangled up in kite string in the garden, JP and DJ decided to join him in the backyard, while Bernadette decided the golden retriever really, really wanted to go outside and play too.
Fortunately, no one was electrocuted and everything was back in place by the time I got home from my swim.
Let it be known that I can also get really mad...besides being a mean mom. And my lenten challenge of not yelling so much kinda went out the window today.
At least they now know not to fly kites in the backyard anymore.