Dear Friends Worried About My Sanity and My Son’s Life:
Thank you for your concern. I’m speaking to him again. Why? He said some magic words:
Can I have a hug?
And that was it.
(Don’t tell anyone that I have a secret soft side.)
In return for putting up with his bad behavior, though, I secured the rights to publish a ridiculous picture of him.
Before I show it to you, let me set the scene:
Eddie is picking up Gideon from track practice. It’s only Dominic and me at home. I guess he doesn’t realize I’m home because he calls me on the phone. (And you all know how I feel about talking on the phone.)
(The call is coming from INSIDE the house!)
Mama! Can you come help me? I’m stuck!
Just then, Eddie calls.
Can you help your son? He is stuck in the bed.
Wait … what?
So I go in his room and I see this:
No child was harmed in the taking of this photo.
It’s an antique bed. This child slid off the end of it and trapped himself. I took the picture then helped him escape.
(For those of you wondering why I stopped to take a photo, it’s like you don’t even know me! In our family, if someone does something stupid, we laugh and/or document it first, then ask questions.)
Also notice his acid-washed jeans. Those are in style again, people (as are fanny packs).
Sigh.
Anyway, he’s fine. And we’re fine — until the next time the hormones take control.
I’ll be sure to update you.
Yours truly,
Beth
Observe and report 
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