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| photo credit |
Have you
ever fallen asleep on the job? I have, it was during my shift of late night
parenting of teens. And that is where my story of war and peace begins.
As I tried
to sleep, I heard thunderous bumping and crashing, but I refused to get out of
the bed. The sounds of voices and laughter blared, but I was paralyzed by
sleep. My teen boys had company and they were obviously wrestling.
It was after
11pm, I knew this because my cell phone dinged and I rolled over to see the
time. The boys were loud, I wanted to scream to them to be quiet, but I
couldn’t find my voice. Besides, I didn’t want to be wide awake.
The next
morning when I arose, the house was quiet. I was faced with a dilemma…do I rush
through the house like a herd of elephants, sounding an alarm signaling that
day light had arrived? My other option was to tip-toe through the house like a
soldier navigating through a mine field.
I chose
peace over war. I wanted quiet over the clash of the battlefield of
rambunctious teens. So, I let the boys sleep. As I made my way to the kitchen
for a cup of coffee, I discovered the spoils of the battlefield from the night
before. There was trash overflowing from the wastebasket and dirty glasses
everywhere except in the sink.
The smell of
fried chicken grease still emanated through the kitchen and living room. Scraps
from the previous night’s dinner were on top of the trash. Birds were singing
outside the window as they welcomed in the morning, but it was too early for
breakfast. I just wanted that cup of coffee. Instant coffee.
While I
waited for the tea kettle to give its signal of completion, I began to
straighten up the kitchen. I refused to clean everything that was left by the
sleeping cherubs, but I had to clean a few things…the mess was bothering me.
Once my coffee was ready, I retreated to my little area that I called the quiet zone and devised my combat plan
for the day.
My plan was
simple-
·
Fill
the house with the smell of bacon as it sizzled on the griddle.
·
Be
sure the smell of biscuits baking drifted under the boy’s noses.
·
And
finally, partake of my daily bread and wait for them to ask for some.
It wasn’t
long after initiating my plan that the boys were awake. As they wiped sleep from
their innocent eyes, I told the boys they would have to help clean up before
they could eat. The pseudo war was over, it was time for peace. The boys agreed
to my terms and we lived happily ever after…for the moment.
Does
anything unusual happen when you have teens around or even a small gathering of
children?
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