Things Boys Do

When there is a blizzard dumping a butt load of snow outside and trying it’s darnedest to ruin your life with its stupid white, powdery-soft-but-will-frost-bite-you-in-a-heartbeat-if-you’re-not-careful stupidness…

After you haul out all of the are-you-seriously-still-eating-that-stuff-Dude? Play-doh, and the bored board games, and the books you’ve read so many times they give you nightmares, and the Wii.

When you are at your wit’s end with the creative-indoor-games-that-are-fun-and-safe-but-don’t-require-a-lot-of-supplies.

There is little else for a murder of boys (murder, that’s what they call a group of crows; seems to fit this particular scenario perfectly) to do other than…

1. Fight. Which they do without the interference of a Snowmergency, but for some reason, when I can’t escape (aka get to work) it is WAY more unbearable.

2. Cry. No wait. That was me.

3. Run. Around, and around, and around. What inspired builders to make houses this way? Is it a design specifically created to allow little boys to drive their mother’s mad? Probably since most of the builders are male and after day three of SnowMG 2010, I’m convinced that all males are evil geniuses with a secret plot to end those of us who bear them.

4. Get dirty. Not in the traditional way (you know with grass stains and the like). In new, more creative ways than before. Like by rubbing blue Play-doh so hard for so long that it turns to paint which you then apply to your face as war paint. Because, you know, as I already mentioned, this is a war, against me, and all I stand for (cleanliness, sanity, order, etc.).

5. Stuff their faces. Dang it. That was me again. Snowbastard 2010 is turning Dumb Mom into a Snowfata$$. I’m willing to bet that by the time this Snowfoolishness has run its course I’ll be a good five pounds heavier. Just another side effect of being trapped inside: you can’t escape the foodstuffs that are calling your name.

6. Fight more. But over different stuff. Like, whose turn it is to sit on my lap (WHAT?! You want to touch me? In a nice way? That doesn’t end in my injury and/or death?!). Or who gets to help me empty the upstairs trash cans. Dumb stuff that wouldn’t come up were they not going insane with cabin fever.

7. Wait. For it to end. So they can wait some more for it to be cleaned up. Or melt. From what I know about my (privately plowed) community, we have a better chance of it melting first.

8. Make stuff up. Like new games. They called this one Daddy Swing…

Which they made up right after Daddy Donkey and Daddy Dork (oh wait, Daddy Dork was my game and it was fun).

9. Cry again. By this time they are all in on the crying action.

10. Cuddle with their mom because they have run out of things to do and even fighting with each other has gotten old. Never thought the day would come when they would get tired of fighting. Guess that’s why we’re calling it Snowmagedeon!

I’m sure I could write a heartfelt post about how happy we are to be enjoying time together, but the fact of the matter is that is not the case. I’m just not feeling it and neither are they. We are not at each other’s throats (okay they were for a bit) or anything, but all this nothing to do-ness and can’t play outside-ness is a drain on the psyche of boys and their moms. I know I should be more creative, but I’m not so if any of you have tips for things-to-do-with-boys-when-trapped-in-a-blizzard-that-are-easy-and-don’t-require-a-butt-load-of-supplies send them my way because from what I hear we’re looking at the possibility of no school for a week!

AHHHHHHHHHH!

Okay, off to process that possibility while I await a ride to my stupid-face-stupid-ugly-dummy-head job where they will quite possibly hold me prisoner for the next three days (they agree to bring you in, but no one said anything about bringing me back).

Thought this would be a perfect Sunday’s in My City post to share with Unknown Mami. Go check her out for more!