Sunday, December 02, 2007

Boys being boys...

My oldest son decided it would be a good idea to "train" my youngest in the fine art of "battling". This involves all types of kicking, punching, wrestling moves, and sometimes weaponry. This has been going on for months and the Chooch is now quite skilled in the art of battling and is quite accomplished with a foam sword as well. As long as they weren't crying, nor propelling themselves off my furniture (at least when I was watching), I really didn't care about said battles.

(You can view the nonsense here).

Well, as of last week all battles have ceased at Camp Osto. My oldest came running up stairs while I was cooking dinner with blood running down his face. (Now you have to understand that this kid cannot stand the mere thought of blood, let alone the sight of his own. I am more afraid that he is going to pass out and that the eggs I was trying to cook were going to burn in the pan in the meantime). Anyways, the Chooch hit him in the head with a toy fishing pole and put a little, but bloody, puncture in his noggin. Ugh, boys. I told Bird it was his own fault that he had trained the Chooch so well...

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

My goodness, that Brady is really something.....god forbid he ever gets in a fight with a kid his own age,,,,,,,so much like his father at that age.....

Nana

AmyO said...

yeah, he's a mini-Matt for sure!