Several of you enjoyed hearing the chaotic tales about my children last week and asked for more, so this week I’ve decided to hit you again with some more of the bizarre scenes one could observe if they were a fly on the wall in our home.
As you may have guessed from my previous column, life in a house with two wild boys and a remarkably patient wife is an endless parade of absurdity, humor, and moments of unexpected wisdom. My wife, affectionately known as Honey Doodle, is the glue that holds this circus together. Our sons, whom we will refer to as The Elder Wild Thing and The Younger Wild Thing, provide the material. Here’s a curated collection of some of our finest chaos.
The Candy Cane Conundrum
The first thing you need to know about my wife is that she is an angelic soul who would give our kids her left kidney and her right eye if they asked. She’s a softie. A true Hufflepuff. Unfortunately this often leads to allowing the children to have sweets at inconvenient times.
This very morning we were getting the kids ready for a Christmas party. The party prep included a bath. Prior to said bath, Honey Doodle said yes to a request for candy canes. Because red dye is the perfect thing for kids to have prior to a social event.
Once the bath commenced, I heard the following words escape Honey Doodle’s mouth: “Why would you bring a candy cane into the bathtub?”
I don’t know who the culprit was, but I have a strong suspicion it’s the same person who once tried to eat a waffle with their feet.
Faith vs. Furniture
One afternoon, a loud banging reverberated through the house. Honey Doodle called out, “What’s that?”
The Elder Wild Thing replied from the other room, “My brother is trying to get something off the shelf.”
“Can you help him?” she asked, already sensing resistance.
“I don’t want to help him,” he said, in the kind of solemn tone reserved for martyrs. “I’m reading my Bible.”
Without hesitation, Honey Doodle responded, “Stop reading your Bible and get up and help someone.”
Faith, as they say, without works is dead—and if your brother is in need you should lend him a hand. There won’t be any pew warmers in this house, that’s for sure.
Fork Around and Find Out
During dinner one night, Honey Doodle noticed The Younger Wild Thing was eating sans fork.
“Did you give your brother a fork when you set the table?” she asked The Elder Wild Thing.
“Ummmm, no,” he admitted, his expression a masterclass in poorly feigned innocence.
“Why not?”
“He was being mean to me, so he didn’t get a fork.”
Revenge is a dish best served forkless, apparently.
More Forgiveness Issues
One evening, The Younger Wild Thing walked up and smacked his older brother because apparently one’s brother needs an occasional smacking. After Honey Doodle convinced the young offender to apologize, the Elder Wild Thing, ever the stickler for righteousness, said “I’ll forgive you in two days.”
Not sure where he plucked that time period from, but needless to say they had made amends by the end of the hour. They can try, but they just can’t stay mad at each other.
Daddy as Modern Art
While baking cookies together, The Elder Wild Thing pointed to a misshapen blob of dough. “What’s that?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Honey Doodle replied. “Some funny-looking creature.”
Without skipping a beat, The Elder Wild Thing nodded, a grin already forming on his face. “Was it Daddy?”
In the words of Rodney Dangerfield, “I get no respect.”
The Captain’s Command
The Older Wild Thing went through a four year pirate phase. He referred to the house as a ship and believed himself to be the captain. For four years. It was one of the most fun times in our lives — and he was quite dedicated to his craft.
One morning During The Pirate Era, The Younger Wild Thing slipped on the bathroom floor and, in true sibling fashion, decided to blame The Elder Wild Thing. A retaliatory shove followed. Without flinching, The Elder Wild Thing puffed up his chest and declared, “Don’t you ever push the captain!”
I suppose it’s comforting to know our family operates on a strict pirate hierarchy.
In Other Pirate News:
One day during this same four-year time period, I was minding my business in my office when I heard the following dulcet tones coming from my wife in the adjacent room: “We are not making our brother walk the plank.”
I think at this point in time the Younger Wild Thing wasn’t old enough to talk yet and his older tormentor was essentially using him as a real-life toy.
Snack Time Sagas
This one happened when The Elder Wild Thing wasn’t very eld at all. He wasn’t even speaking in sentences and his younger brother had yet to take the stage.
After a day filled with snacks thrown and left uneaten, Honey Doodle was preparing dinner with the aforementioned bundle of wildness strapped to her chest. In his most innocent voice, he looked up at his Mama and said “San?” which was his word for “snack” at the time.
“No,” she replied firmly. “I’m not giving you another snack because every time I’ve given you one today, you’ve thrown it and not eaten it.”
He nodded, deep in thought, and simply said, “Yeah.”
Our little pirate captain has been self-aware from a young age.
Brotherly Bonds
Every now and then, the Wild Things remind us they aren’t always at each other’s throats. One evening, shortly after the Younger Wild Thing had learned to walk, the two brothers decided to walk up the hill in the back yard together. Sensing his younger brother’s nervousness, The Elder Wild Thing gently offered, “If you get scared, hold my hand. I’m here for you.”
Despite all the chaos and wildness, we must be doing something right on this pirate ship.
BONUS: A Dog’s Tale
Years ago, before we had kids, our dog was preparing to do what dogs do best—vomit dramatically on the carpet. Honey Doodle stared him down and said, “Find something else to do.”
Shockingly, he did. To this day, I marvel at her ability to calm a hacking dog.
Life in this house is never dull. Between the candy canes, Bible lessons, and pirate mutinies, it’s an adventure I wouldn’t trade for the world— though I might consider a little more quiet time now and then.
B.T. Clark
B.T. Clark is an award-winning journalist and the Publisher of The Georgia Sun. He has 25 years of experience in journalism and served as Managing Editor of Neighbor Newspapers in metro Atlanta for 15 years and Digital Director at Times-Journal Inc. for 8 years. His work has appeared in several newspapers throughout the state including Neighbor Newspapers, The Cherokee Tribune and The Marietta Daily Journal. He is a Georgia native and a fifth-generation Georgian.
