When sending a 14 year old outside to do chores
one should assume that unless you are with them,
they will break something. Or, make you break something.

He was just supposed to split up the logs.
Is it really that hard? Insert wedge
hit with maul, repeat, repeat, repeat

He yodels the “Zena, Warrior Princess” call
like he has Tourette syndrome, over and over and over.
Can he do this one task, without my overbearing presence?


An odd sound like a maul colliding with a garage door
sends My Bear holding Girlie and me running out the door.
“WHAT WAS THAT?” It was an accident. It hit the door.

The inanimate 8 pound maul just jumped up and slammed
into my replacement countertop that was leaning up against
a stack of doors against the garage door? (“Effing, kill, maul

In a past life I was a sailor. My gutter mouth used to win
prizes in bars and during quiet nights at sea.) I digress.

I pointed out the damage, “That wasn’t me. It was already
“I didn’t think it was that close.” THAT WAS OUR NEW COUNTERTOP.

“Really? What’s it made out of?” STOOOOOOOOOOOOONE, AGGGGHHHH!
My Child wins the prize for oblivious answer of the day.
Said child was raised around this material, has carved it

played in its dust. Do I seem unhinged? Did I ask for this
as a punishment for my previous bad lives? I deserve this child.
I was an arrogant tyrant in previous life number 2 wasn’t I?

I got the countertop for free, back when I was in the market for stuff
and would scavenge like a good sculptor before my back went kaplooey.
Nevermore will I stop to pick up cool things on the side of the road.

I had to garden all day to almost calm down, then the whining started.
Do I have to clean up all the wood? How much wood is enough? Why do
we have to cut the wood up? We don’t burn wood anyway? Am I done yet.


I had a gin with cranberry juice.
I feel the way I used to when I had three small boys at once.
Really one boy is enough to push a not so sane mother of four over the edge.

2 thoughts on “Sounds

    1. My Child has been like this for a while. Unrepentant, thrill seeking… My Child is a Newfoundland puppy. Hiding behind his mane of hair and goofy antics. I love this child, but I have to learn to breathe so I don’t hold my breath in frustration.

      Liked by 1 person

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