The boys were a dream over the weekend. Unusually well-behaved and full of imagination, they provided several snippets worth remembering.
It began Thursday night, at the book release party my wife threw for A Housefly in Autumn. There were other events at the venue, with lots of people in fancy clothes attending them. As he helped push our wagonload of books into the elevator, Big Brother looked up and asked. “Daddy, do all these people know you’re famous?”
“No, I’m pretty sure they don’t,” I replied.
“Why not?”
I changed the subject. I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. I should have said, “Someday, they’ll know,” but I didn’t think fast enough. Anyway, it makes me proud and humble enough to know I’m famous to him.
On Saturday, Mommy went away on an overnight visit, bravely leaving her house in the hands of us four men. We didn’t break the house, as far as Mommy knows, and we had lots of fun. Big Brother invented two new jokes.
Q. What does corn call its father?
A. Pop Corn.
Q. What does an apple call his grandmother?
A. Granny Smith.
You can see the pattern he was working on for his comedy that day.
After jokes came wrestling.
When Mommy’s away, two boys and a blanket lump will play.
Did that blanket just give birth to a Big Man?
You boys go about your play. Big Man’s on the march.
Why is he climbing up the stereo?
Of course! An extension cord will make the perfect addition to the stash of useful objects he keeps in his hole behind the stereo.
On Sunday, Big Brother said he was worried. “Mommy hasn’t called or texted or anything!”
I reassured him that she had texted me. He looked disgusted. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Now that I know he’s a worrier, I’ll be sure to keep him in the loop. He’s right to worry about Mommy’s safety, considering that I’m the only parent he has in reserve.
We were low on food, so I got to do one of my favorite things in the world: go grocery shopping with three boys. Before we left, Buster insisted I help him tear off a piece of Scotch tape. He attempted to wrap the tape around a “Boo-boo” on his baby brother’s finger.
“That’s not a Band-Aid,” I said.
He nodded to reassure me. “It is. It is Band-Aid,” he insisted.
I finally convinced him to leave Big Man alone. He contented himself with wrapping the tape around his own finger. In the car, he tried to convince Big Brother his finger was bleeding.
“It’s not bleeding,” Big Brother insisted, because he’s a pathological corrector, even of three-year-olds with big imaginations.
“It is bleeding!” Buster shouted back. “Doctor say it bleeding.”
For the rest of the ride, Big Brother attempted to pin Buster down as to exactly when he had been to the doctor.
Buster gave up the argument, secure in his own knowledge that he possessed both a bleeding finger and a Band-Aid. Sometimes, you just have to ignore the skeptics.
Big Man slept through most of the supermarket, and the other boys were surprisingly good. We hit almost every aisle and I didn’t have to break into a run once.
We went home and had sloppy joes, corn on the cob, and watermelon. Then Mommy came home and they ran to her as if she were all that could save them from the collapse of society.
I’m still not as famous as Mommy, but all the blood was imaginary, so I guess we did all right.
Snoozing on the Sofa 
Sounds like you did just fine! And you’re right….someday, they’ll all know!
Yeah, we do OK. Probably because we’re all famous to each other.
Such great stories. Those kind of weekends can really help refuel us, can’t they? Your boys are so cute. And CONGRATS on A Housefly in Autumn!!!!!! Looks like I have a new book to download 🙂
Those weekends can help refuel or poke a big hole in the gas tank, depending upon how they go. This one was a good one.
I have to pay for the release party, so download away. Thanks.
Hey, if the doctor say it bleeding, it bleeding! Probably from all the blanket wrestling.
Everything is sharp around our house, even the blankets.
Sounds like a fun weekend, and those kids are cute as heck.
It was a good time. They are pretty cute, aren’t they?
I’m still trying to figure out how a blanket gave birth. Maybe it bleeding?
That’s it! Use your imagination! If you say it bleeding, it bleeding.
Well then it bleeding. 😉
Scott, your stories of your family are absolutely precious. I chuckled and I laughed. You do have your hands full, yet, the JOY you must have every day!!! Yes, you are famous in you sons’ eyes. And that is that!!! Love, Amy ❤
You nailed it on the head, Amy. I have my hands full . . . of joy.
🙂 🙂 🙂
Nice action shots…it looks like you have about six months before all three of them are rolling on the ground together. Hopefully by then you will be famous and able to hire a nanny.
I’d better redouble my efforts at fame and fortune because I’m going to need a nanny with experience in riot control.
Wow. Famously fine, Scott. Congratulations on your great boys day. And your book release!
Thanks, Mark. After years of work, now comes the really hard work. And with the boys, it’s always hard work, but even more fun than work.
You always crack me up with your words. Congrats on your book release- AMAZING!!!
Thank you so much. It’s always nice to know there are a few people noticing.
Wow my friend, you did more than GREAT, you did INSPIRATIONAL!
Three kids on your own without actual blood being spilled…
I say that cause for a CELEBRATION! Or maybe just a night with the boys, and I’m implying grown-up versions off course…
The only boys I have these days are these three little ones. I’m not even sure what sort of things big boys do anymore.
I need to visit your neck of the woods. I’ll show you. Call it a reconnaissance mission.