Four Going on Forty

This weekend, I noticed a bunch of strange children (by strange, I mean not kids I recognized from our neighborhood) playing in the mound of snow piled alongside the ends of our driveway. I was concerned mostly because they had tools with them: a pitchfork, a hammer, metal shovels. We're talking 7 year old girls, not teenagers. The fact that they were playing with metal tools in the snow on my property concerned me slightly. I let it go, since they weren't weilding the tools against each other, but rather were just chipping away at the snow.

I made the mistake of mentioning out loud that there were kids eating Mikie's snow (one of them was eating the snow, which is REALLY gross since it was the plowed snow). Mikie overheard and was beside himself. He immediately informed Mike and I that we had to go tell them it was HIS SNOW. I dismissed his request, arguing that I needed to eat lunch.

Mikie walked to the front door, and starts trying to open it. When he didn't succeed, he marched back to the garage, and opened it, mumbling "I'm going to take matters into my own hands."

At this point, Mike and I stifled our laughter long enough for Mike to convince him that he couldn't go outside without shoes on. And, that he shouldn't tell the girls to get out of his snow, but rather tell them that if they are going to play in his yard, could he play with them.

Eventually, he got dressed in snow clothes and went outside to play with the girls, with strict instructions that he could not leave our yard, and he couldn't set foot on the road. It may not have been the best idea we had, letting him go outside without us and play with girls, only one of whom we knew, who had metal tools. But, he did put the pitchfork down when Mike ran outside and told him he could only play with his plastic shovel. And, ultimately, he had fun and didn't get hurt.

One day, maybe he'll tell us where he picked up the phrase "I'm going to take matters into my own hands."

Love, The Trahans