Boys Will Be Boys

The insistent ringing of the telephone brought me out of the bowels of the basement, on a run to stop the phone's dictating demand, "Answer me. Run. Hurry. NOW." I answered on the fourth ring.

"Mrs. Vrbas?" a female voice queried. My heart began to pound with growing anxiety.

"Do you know what your little boys are doing?" the voice continued, slightly accusingly.

"They were playing in the yard when I went to the basement to do laundry," I answered a trifle defensively, still trying to catch my breath.

The zinger came in a polite informative voice. "Were you aware they are relieving themselves on the street?" Sure enough, through the window, I spied my two young sons, standing side by side on the curb, with both hands in front of them, directing their pee toward the passing cars. I sincerely wished I was in the basement and could stay there indefinitely.

"Yes. I see them. I was doing laundry in the basement and they took advantage," I tried to explain through clenched jaws.

"I just thought you would want to know what they are up to," the voice spoke in a most helpful, slightly superior tone. I thanked the voice, and then said good-bye.

I stood at the window, my eyes resting on my male offspring, as they made their private parts private once more. Three and four years old, I couldn't help but smile, as they giggled and joshed with each other for a few minutes. It was cute, but in ten years, it could be an undesirable habit. I did not desire to be the mother of future exhibitionists.

I called to Dave and Joe from the front door, while waving to the concerned citizen from across the street, that I had just spoke to on the phone. The boys came running to the door for milk and cookies. They nodded their heads agreeably while munching cookies and licking at milk mustaches, as I explained they should come inside to use the bathroom. I felt satisfied it had gone well and was no big deal.

I shared this incident with my husband later and how proud of myself I was of how I'd handled the situation with our boys. I couldn't believe my ears later, when he was tucking them into bed. I heard him say to them, "Next time you need to go when you're outside, don't go on the street. Go outback to the lilac bush, where no one will see you."

We laugh about it now, especially since the two kids were crack shots and hit the tractors that would go by, much to the hilarity of the farmers driving them. To the best of my knowledge, they are not exhibitionists today.