Tonawanda News — Like most parents, I think my kids are pretty clever.
I’m biased, of course; we all are. We see our little darlings as the brilliant combination of their parents, after all. They could cure cancer, write the next Great American Novel, solve the mysteries of the universe. Sure, they have to start small, with such puzzles as how to tie their shoes and why 2+2=4, but that’s all just part of the road to success. Right?
But, also like every other parent out there, there are times I just have to stop. And stare. And ultimately deliver the immortal line:
“What on EARTH were you thinking?!?”
We had one of these moments — a particularly legendary one — a few weeks ago. I was sitting at the dining room table, working on something ... I don’t even remember what now. The boys had been pushing and shoving and giggling in our adjacent living room, and while I was keeping an eye out to make sure they didn’t get too rough, I was mostly just letting them play.
I noticed the 4-year-old over by our front door. I observed his brother sitting just before the hallway that leads to our kitchen. I saw the younger one strike a “ready to run” pose perfected (for a preschooler, anyway) through a summer spent running track. Somewhere in my brain, eight years of mommy instincts said, “Wait a minute ...”
Too late. Sam took off. I started to stand up. Too late. I don’t think Jimmy ever saw him coming.
What possessed him to try to vault over his brother? We may never know.
It didn’t precisely work. He simply didn’t get enough air. And the next thing I heard was a resounding “THUD!” as they both hit the ground, Jim right where he’d been sitting, Sam a foot or two behind. He skidded nearly to our bathroom door, popped right up and ran into another room, slamming the door and then peering out as if he thought an angry momma was right on his heels.