Again?!!!!?

Many months ago, I wrote about Jack's tab. The kid, bless his little curious blond self, just seems to destroy, tinker, and manipulate his way into expensive situations.

I will not bore you with another running total. I'll just bore you with a few of the latest stories from the "Jack's tab" newsreel.

Today, Chad was singing "Eve of Destruction." I soon discovered what inspired the serenade: Jack had taken off several rubber stoppers from the backs of the cabinets, putting them against each other to make mini bouncy balls. Great. I had him repair the cabinets, and we talked about why the cabinets need their rubber stoppers. Just like the talk we had earlier about why doors need hinges and can't be swung from. Like a little preschool physics camp, only less colorful, and more tense.

Last week, Jack informed me that Nolan had "ripped the curtains down." I skeptically asked Jack how Nols could be strong enough. There was no reply. Then, I dropped my dishtowel, dried my hands, and went to the basement. The visual was priceless. I asked Jack how Nols could tear down the curtain rod, which was dangling, one end down willy-nilly in a pile of sheetrock dust. There was no reply.

There were, however, some Flintstone-esque footprints in the windowsill, about a children's size 9.

A moment of mother's best weapon, silence, produced a squealer. She told me what I already knew. I sat Jack down and talked about telling the truth and why we don't swing like Spiderman from curtain rods. Then, I asked if he was hurt. I told him he would have to help daddy with the tools to fix the rod (not really a punishment for Jack, but the only one that seemed to fit the crime)

Then, I mentally reassured myself that I had made a great choice to go with cheap Ikea hardware. Then, I mentally reprimanded myself for not going with better hardware, not asking if he was hurt first, not keeping my kitchen floor (or at least his feet) cleaner, and not properly supervising my son's activities. I thought about all the things I should be doing to keep my kids out of danger.

Nolan, Chad informs me, has also visited the same windowsill to attend Jack's Stunt School. ("But, Dad, Nols likes it when I lift him up there.")
This is going nowhere good. This is going everywhere bad. This is. This just is. My life. For another 20 years. May I keep them out of body casts, and the house from inevitable implosion.