I can deal with difficult child's racing thru the house. Muddy shoes and all.
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I currently have only 3 broken windows due to difficult child issues.
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I am used to rough and tumble boys beating on each other and nothing short of WWF refs required to intervene.
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I am accustomed to watching my back for flying skillets, stepping on hotwheels, and digging up graveyards of downed plastic soldiers in the flower bed.
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Worms and frogs don't bother me, even in my bed. I laugh and relocate them to another bed. We have a display case with skeletons and petrified lizards in it.
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We've had pet coons. Pet possums. A "pet" muskrat named Carl who ate his way out of his plastic pet crate. Dog puke on my bed doesn't phase me.
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They had water gun fights and used the fishtank to reload.
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The boys are responsible for one of the two best senior pranks in the history of the school (harmless, but very smelly).
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They can be immature. They fart, they snore, they grab their crotches, and grossed each other out by showing the chewed food in their mouths. Belching is an olympic sport in my house. They welded each other's tools to the work bench. Sometimes they welded my tools to the work bench. They blew up aerosol cans in fires. They built "sparkler bombs". They used black tape by the case. They made potato guns that could launch a potato 200 yards and splatter it like a rotten tomato on the side of the barn. For that matter, they splattered rotten tomatoes on the side of the barn.
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They jumped the Oldsmobile in the pasture.
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When they got in a fight, they beat the tar out of each other. Five minutes later, they were best buddies. Brothers for life.
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But the petty, catty, cliquey, moody, underhanded, and just plain annoying carp that easy child 2 pulls as a typical, moody, PMS-ing 'tween girl...DRIVES ME CRAZY.