Rant of the Day: The Pencil that Broke Mom's Back!

Some discussions with my children make me want to throw a hissy fit. Big ones.

I’m not sure why I have such an emotional response to ridiculousness, but I do.

My blood pressure rises.

I huff.

I puff.

And I declare with all the patience of a two-year-old, “That is NOT a pencil.”

All five of my boys have mastered the skill of destroying a pencil and then declaring it their most prized writing utensils.

Why?

Why does one have to destroy a perfectly beautiful number 2 pencil?

Why does the pencil only become valuable if you can only measure it in millimeters rather than inches?

I don’t know. But these questions keep me awake at night.

There are kept company by other boy related questions like:

Why is farting in a brother’s face the proper response to being wronged?
Why do socks need to be worn inside out?
How will boys learn to lift the lid if no one will confess that they are the ones who pee all over the seat?
When is it ok to pull the wings off of bugs?

We work hard training our sons to be kind, considerate, and hard working.

We consistently remind them what godliness looks and sounds like.

I swear, some days I wonder if it will all work out in the end.
Will they grow up to be kind hearted, considerate hard working men?
Or will they be pencil destroying, toilet peeing, face farting fools?

This is why I need God.
Because nothing unravels the peace in my home faster than when I throw a fit.

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