We’re two weeks in to a rather substantial punishment for one of the boys. I guess I should protect the guilty so let’s just say his name rhymes with helix. No phone, no laptop, no xbox for a month. A month.
Granted, I meted out that teenage death sentence in the heat of the incident but I am still of the belief it is fair for the crime. Every now and then my cold dead heart melts a little and I consider shortening the sentence but then he asks for his laptop back and my steely resolve is shored up once more.
I know the length is appropriate because last week one of his wails on not getting his laptop back was “I didn’t even hit him that hard”. He’s lucky I didn’t add another week for that one.
The weekday evening moping is deliciously excruciating involving a lot of lolling about on the lounge or the floor wrapped up in a blanket personifying misery.
But here’s the kicker, it’s SO NICE having him back when I didn’t even realise he was gone. We hang out on the lounge, tonight has been a relentless campaign on who can get in a tickle before the other one flees or, in my case, wets their pants in hysterics. There’s discussions about politics, about what he’s learning in science at school, about STUFF.
There’s two long weeks to go and I’m quite sure this week will be as hellish as the last with moaning and wailing but there’s a perverse pleasure in that anyway.