Often, he will quickly go into his room to get something. Or to put something on his body. But not to stay….oh no…the bedroom is just a place to travel to and from.
However, yesterday the siblings got into a scuffle. This involved Big Daddy getting involved….and if you are under sixteen in this house…you really don’t want that to happen.
Without further discussion, the siblings were sent to their respective bedrooms. Courtesy of Big Daddy. I stuck to the contents of my laundray basket while this was happening, and listened as feet tromped upstairs.
From Hunter’s room I hear nothing. Not a peep. Even though the door is closed, I know that this means that she has flopped on the bed and buried her nose in a book. Not sure how this equals redemption for questionable behaviour with the sibling…but at least the house is peaceful.
From Tyler’s room I hear lots of thumping and ta-dumping. A little rabble-rousing taking place perhaps? I also hear a big bang, but no wailing after, so it must be okay in there.Then it turns strangley quiet for a few minutes…to the point where I wonder if I should check to see if there are any unconscious objects in the room, when I hear jumping. Not jumping-off-the -bed jumping or hopscotch-jumping, but rhythmic jumping.Thump…thump…thump….thump. Hmmmm.
Then the phone rings and after the conversation ends, I am off to pick up my friend’s 3 children from school and then drive Hunter to skating practice. When I arrive home, the boys have gone to hockey. I totally forget about the jumping….until I walk into his room later and discover a jumping rope askew in the middle of the floor. My mind immediately flashes back to the rhythmic jumping I heard earlier.How he managed to find a jumping rope in the dark reaches of his closet, I am not sure. And how he actually managed to jump rope in that teeny tiny bedroom without smashing anything off the wall, I am not sure.