Wound for Sound

Peter turned twelve a week or so ago, and since "the more the merrier" is pretty much how Peter lives his life, he requested a party.

The good news about a party for twelve-year-olds is that party prep consists of laying out a bunch of food and hoping for the best. I no longer have to come up with party games. Since I was the child who sat in the corner and read while everybody else played Pin the Tail on the Donkey, this is a wonderful development. The bad news is, in lieu of quietly dropping clothes pins in a Coke bottle, they run through your entire house and play hide and go seek in the dark.

Don't get me wrong. We homeschool, so we get to pick our friends. And I love each of the kids that attended so much that I would run into burning buildings to save them. But collectively, they're a little loud. My own kids can be pretty loud all on their own, so that's saying something.

It's kind of like candy corn. I love candy corn, but if you try to make a meal of it, you'll get a little sick to your stomach. Or your ears will start ringing and you'll have a headache. Something like that.

Then, to wrap up the weekend, our children's program at church had a special celebration last night. A special celebration that involved a hundred or so excited children in the church gym running races. That's not quiet, either.

My youngest child, the child who looks just like me, coped with the special celebration by huddling against the wall with his fingers in his ears. It was all I could do to not walk over and join him.

Today my only goal is quiet. We'll see how it goes.