June 23, 2014

The Mischievous Child

There is something about a large hill of sand that little boys can't stay out of. The same goes for recently poured concrete.

The concrete truck came, the workers got it poured, smoothed and let us carve our initials in there. Then they left with the intentions of returning tomorrow or the next day to pour the walls. (This, by the way is going to be a root cellar.) 

I strictly said to the children, "Do not go over to the concrete or even play on the big mountain of sand, because I don't want the concrete getting ruined before it sets. 

Later in the day I find this:

And then this:

I immediately gathered them all together to find the culprit to make them PAY! Shockingly everyone was surprised...  The five year old finally confessed to walking on the concrete because it was of course "dry", but didn't know the wall fell down. The three year old has no reason to lie and says he saw it fall down. Which means he was there and probably played a part in it. I grilled him on what and how it happened. His three year old english isn't the greatest yet, but what I've gathered is he was on the concrete when it happened. As the nine year old and I shoveled the heavy dirt out of there, a scary thought entered my mind. Where was this little boy when the wall fell down? Was he being a three year old boy and hitting the wall with a stick? Was he driving his tractor along the dirt wall like his does in the house? He could have been covered up in all this dirt. A sickening feeling came over me.

We'd been swimming in a pond earlier and I had just gotten him out of the tub, into his jammies and was washing the five year old's hair. He escaped out to the back yard and down into the hole where he collapsed the wall. How he did it, I will never know. All I do know is he is safely asleep in his bed tonight. I'm so grateful this is not the last time these tractors are driven by a tiny hand. When my mischievous baby asked me to lie down by him tonight while he fell asleep I did. I watched him drift off to dream land, so grateful for all the grief he causes me.

It took an hour and a half for the nine year old and I to clean up the mess. We shoveled, we swept and then got the air compressor out and even blew it off.

You almost wouldn't even know it happened.
Except for that big hole in the wall...

Hold your little ones a little tighter tonight. Talk a little softer tomorrow.

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