of first frogmarches…

I love Mondays… rephrase…I LOVE Monday EVENINGS… WHY?

• I have to brace myself for the home-time greeting to attempt to catch Nate running helter-skelter at me full-tilt,
• the kids are not yet week-weary so whining and whinging is kept to a minimum,
• because of the absence of said whining and whinging  there is always time for tickles and tomfoolery, and
• once I’ve tucked my poppets in I turn around and blow them kisses instead of heaving a sigh of relief.

The “Monday Evening” is not a universal law, so there are always going to be exception.  Cue – Monday, 25th July 2011.

 

 

6-year old Nate pressed this cutsie little note into the palm of my hand when collecting him from aftercare.  Before I continue, I’d like to draw your attention to the opportune use of the thrass-font and the cleverly placed toilet paper cartoon character – PURE GENIUS!  Goes to show that there is opportunity for learning in each and every situation, but I digress…

 

In a voice audible to only canines, extra-terrestrial space-craft and children in deep trouble I seethe “Right… let’s go then!”  Our little parade was bolstered by a group of 5 or 6 kids who I think smelt a parental kakking-out of epic proportions.  We enter the amenities, I look around – all seems in order!  Confused, I turn to Nate who sheepishly extends his index finger very slowly towards the roof.  My son … (who it has to be said is unlikely to bowl a Yorker for the Proteas, ain’t probably going to be the next ace Striker for Bafana-Bafana nor going serve up Ace after Ace at Wimbledon)… that son… yes… THAT ONE … has with remarkable accuracy managed to place 3 or 4 water-soaked toilet-paper balls on the roof of the boys bogs.  By now there is a crowd (word travels fast through the aftercare grape-vine)… I gathered myself, calmly put on the face-book pout* and with nostrils aflare (so wide there is a very real danger I might actually successfully lift-off), I tell Nate “we will speak about this at home!”

 

Blah blah blah … It Was An Accident… blah blah blah … I Wasn’t My Idea … blah blah blah… Cut to the Punishment Discipline and Corrective Behavior Part…  It was decided that there would be no TV, dessert nor iPod for the evening.  To some it may seem rather a light punishment but the parental reasoning was that Nate had assured us that the following day he was due to appear before the deputy-principal to answer for his actions.  The Dad and I reasoned that standing in front of her, he would need to (little) man-up and take responsibility for his transgressions – to us this would suffice.  End of story… or so one would think… but this is NATE we’re talking about – do not be lulled into a false sense of security.

 

Young Master Nate for all his good natured deviousness, street-smarts and resourcefulness is also a “relatively” honest young man.  I use the word relatively because it might take some time for his Jiminy Cricket (conscience) to activate but eventually it does.  This morning, in between lamentimg the oats I’m making him eat, he tries to surreptitiously slip in “Mummy, by the way, I thought you should know…I don’t think we’re ACTUALLY going to see D-J!  I think H (his teacher) said we would go if we did it again!”  The Pout returned, the dogs hid behind the couch at the sight of Nostrils-Aflare and this time there was also The Gnashing of Teeth (quite apocalyptic).  After inhaling and exhaling 5 times, I managed to get out a caustic “I’ll talk to H about it!”

 

Nate generally stands out in a crowd, but with amazing speed and stealth he managed to disappear into a sea of 6-year-olds the minute we reached the pre-school grounds this morning.  Smart move Bud, wize beyond your years!   I, in the meantime, sought out his teacher.  H has a very good understanding of young Nate (she’s a pro having raised 3 boys herself)… I explained how yesterday’s prank had been further compounded by a bald-faced lie further deception and camouflage.  After sharing a good laugh about the ingenuity of his ruse, she was immediately accommodating when I enquired as to whether she would be willing to find out whether D-J could clear 5 minutes in her diary to see Nathan today.  So YES… you read right… the very first time Nate will be frog-marched to the principal’s office for a dressing down will be because his mother orchestrated it.

 

As Sir Walter Scott would say:

“OH WHAT A TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE, WHEN FIRST WE PRACTICE TO DECEIVE!”

 

It’s a very small weapons arsenal we as parents are given to ensure we raise our children right… we do what we can with what we have!

 

 

 

*You KNOW the pout I’m talking about!!! Go look at your friends’ photo’s… some of them are incapable of having a photo taken that doesn’t include bum out, boobs to the ceiling and THE POUT!  The FB-Pout is a Universal Law.