I Surrender to Bob the Builder

New rule: After-midnight posts do not have to be any good... they just have to be made quickly so I can get some sleep.

Here's a little snipet from earlier Thursday. I was in the bathroom and heard a suspicious, scraping noise. The following conversation -- conducted through walls -- ensued.
Mom: Where are you?
Son: Right here.
M: In my room or your room?
S: Right here! In your room.
M: I think you better stop what you're doing, because that's not a good noise.
S: Oh, well, ac-two-ly.... (indecipherable mumbling, and noise continues)
M: Whatever is making that noise is probably not a good idea.... Miles Cannon, hear me?!
S: Oh, is just my sawing, Mama! It's my saw sound! I using my tools.
M: (Still trying to place noise.) On what?!
S: On your things. That hang on your wall. But I will try not to break them! I bein' REAL CAREFUL!

I throw up my hands. I give! UNCLE!

Two porcelain plates hanging above my bed are no longer safe from Miles The Builder. (His latest obsession, due to a dump truck and a video, is Bob! Bob! Bob!) The kitchen counter and cabinets are now accessible via barstool, as is the freezer (the refrigerator already being locked due to midnight marauding). My picture frames and knick knacks are so often rearranged, even I have forgotten how I like them! NOTHING is sacred in this house... except maybe the busy little tyke that makes the biggest messes I have ever seen!

Good thing I like said tyke, 'cause this is damn annoying! Good thing he has his daddy's red hair, gives great bear hugs, and wrinkles his nose when he smiles. Good thing he asks for prayers each night and says "'scuse me, comin' through" whenever he cuts ahead of me in tight spaces.

Fwheh. (Big sigh.) Guess I'll keep sheltering and cleaning up after him -- him and his instruments of destruction, too. "Can I deal with it? Yes, I can!" (This will make no sense to those without the pleasure of seeing Bob build.) I hereby surrender to screwdrivers, staple guns, hammers and levels -- oh my! Here's to hard hats and saws and drills and tape measures. To little boy approximations of such very big boy tools.


Dear God: May my son always find useful things to do with his hands, and may he do them with all his heart. If You desire, give him the skills to build the doorframe on which he writes your name. Help him love Your Word. And show him how to glorify You. Amen.