February 15, 2004

I have two very small men in my life. They provide me with uncomplicated and unconditional love and I, in turn, provide them with games such as “Give Me All of the Balls and Then Take Them Away,” “Climb into the Box and Fall Over,” and the ever popular “Jump on the Couch to Make the Cheerios Dance.”

Their names are Eban and Amedeo. Or, if you prefer, the Destructive Duo. The Mayhem Twins. The Pandemonium Pair. The Entropy Boys.

Somewhere between fetching Eban from the windowsill and pulling Maydee from the heating duct, I stumbled upon Will, who was bolting a dresser to the wall. He looked up at me with wide eyes and said, “They’re out of control. We don’t know what to do. What…? How…? I’m bolting furniture to the wall.”

The only thing that saves these teetering two-year-olds from infinite time-outs is their flirtatious charm. I simply cannot summon any stern looks due to a tipped couch or shredded mail when I see their bright eyes and coy smiles, or when I am asked for a kiss or a big hug. How can I possibly get angry with unlimited curiosity and boundless enthusiasm?

Sam and I took these crazy guys to the playpark yesterday and spent two glorious hours building giant lego towers, riding tiny tractors around a gymnasium, and meeting a variety of funny little people. One five year old told me, “I’m Mary. I’m five and I know anything. I learned it from Jesus.” I went on a teeter-totter with a little girl named Josie who kept telling me, “Ba. Ba.” I played Kitchen with Maydee and basketball with Eban. Overall, much fun was to be had.

On the way home the boys meowed at cats and joyously pointed at airplanes. They are indeed, two of my favorite sillies in the whole universe.