I was outside experimenting with my new camera lens attempting to capture a massive storm (above) rolling in when the cries of my youngest pierced the calm, still air. I knew if it was anything serious he would hunt me down outside which is exactly what he did. I fully expected him to tell on his siblings for teasing him especially since his sister had a friend (Sami) over for the day. Like a pack of wild animals, the youngest is usually singled out…it’s just the way nature operates.
I stopped impersonating a National Geographic Photographer and gave him my “full” attention while, out of the corner of my eye I watched as prime photo opportunities passed by. “It’s terrible Mommy, just terrible!!” he wailed incoherently through sobs as tears streamed down his face. “You have to SAVE my brother…they going to KILL him and FEED him to the Coyotes.” He was clearly upset and began to frantically tug at my hand for me to follow him inside. I tried to hid the smile that was begining to form because, to him, something very bad was taking place but the image of his beloved brother being fed to Coyotes was unlikely and slighlty amusing. Although these girls are capable of a lot of things, including inflicting physical harm, I had my doubts as to the accuracy of my son’s report. He rapidly led me inside as if his brother’s very breath depended on his speed. As we began the decent downstairs I was met with the image of my older son hog tied with duct tape struggling on the ground.
It appears that this boy took the remote and hid it from the girls while they were watching TV. Refusing to give up its location he met the wrath of hormonal tweens with mega doses of estrogen coursing through their bodies. Before he knew it, he was over powered and rendered helpless. His head was covered in sweat showing proof of the struggle that occurred. Their plan was to take him outside and make a spectale out of him and so they proceed to haul him into the garage as his little bro screamed and wailed.
Despite my attempts to calm this frantic child down and inform him that his brother was fine and rather enjoying the adventure and attention, the sight of his older brother gagged and bound with duct tape was too much for him to bear even though everyone was smiling (including older bro through the duct tape).
In the end my older son gave up the location of the remote and the girls gave him a strong warning and released him back into the wild. The youngest eventually stopped wailing once he was able to check his brother out from head to toe making sure he was “really ok.”
An important lesson was learned today in our household and will always be remembered….Don’t mess with the Estrogen factor!!