Boys Will Be Boys

So last Thursday, I agreed to watch my sister's two boys while she finished up some shopping. Joseph is the middle child, age 4, and Luke is the youngest, age 2. Sissy drops them off and quickly makes her exit. I'm pretty sure I heard a cackling, stupid mothe...mrumble...foolish man, coming from my sister as she ran back to her minivan. I shrug and turn my attention to the boys, one of which has found my X-Box, the other one, shoulder deep in my box of Cookie Crisp. Quickly gauging priorities, I set Jojo up on the X-Box with his favorite game, The Hulk. Once the older boy is situated, I deal with the budding mayhem that is a 2 year old trying desperately to fit his entire head into a box of cereal. As I take the box away, I'm punched in the nuts. Once the nausea subsides, I explain to Luke that I just wanted to put it in a bowl for him. I don't believe he cared at this point, as he had now moved on to crawling into Kiko's crate and locking himself in. (side note: Kiko was at the vet, thank God). Jojo catches wind of what's going on and decides that keeping his brother in the crate is infinitely more fun than causing virtual carnage on the widescreen as The Hulk. This is funny until Luke starts crying and punches his older brother in the nuts. Now I have two crying boys to pacify. I'm pretty sure I feel the follicles in my head actually constrict as 9 grey hairs develop.

I quickly take control of the situation by waving shiny things above my head. Everyone knows that boys, no matter the age, are fixated on shiny things and...

...ooo, a nickel on the floor...

...uh, where was I? Oh yes, so now that I have their attention, I determine that a movie would be the best way to keep their attention. Joseph wants Shrek, so Shrek it is. Halfway through the movie, Luke disappears. As does the box of Cookie Crisp. Fearing that he has somehow managed to crawl inside the box, eat all the cereal from inside out, and cause an implosion on the level of a collapsing black hole, I frantically search for the boy. I find him minutes later behind the trashcan, cereal box in one hand, used coffee filter in the other, mouth full of grinds with the biggest shit-eating grin I've ever seen. I wrestle all foreign objects away from Luke, who repays my kindness with another punch in the nuts. I'm beginning to see a pattern develop.

I make my way back to Jojo. He's the sweet one. As I sit down and watch the movie with him, he nestles into my arm, looks up at me with the kindest eyes and says, Uncle Sethro, why do you always break up with girls? After about 13, 14 minutes of incredulous silence, I tell him to mind his own fucking business. He says ok and goes back to watching Shrek. Whew.

By this time, I can tell that Luke is fading into toddler-naptime-oblivion, yet he is fighting it tooth and nail. I ask him if he wants to go upstairs and lay on my bed. His response is a hard right jab in the, you guessed it, nuts. I tell him that if he does that one more time, he's going to Timeout. He looks at me and says, No. You're going to Timeout. I laugh hysterically. Then get punched in the nuts again. I snatch the litte shit up in my arms and take him into my spare room where I have some empty boxes. I place him inside one of the big boxes, and he can barely see over the top of the box.

I look at him and say, You are to never punch a man in his nuts unless he threatens your life, steals your woman, or is David Hasslehoff. Do you understand that? He nods. Now, do you want to come out of Timeout and finish watching Shrek, or do you want to stay in here where deadly Box Spiders will crawl into your ears? He motions towards the living room, and I pick him up. We enjoy the afternoon, nutsack-pain free.

We round out the afternoon playing cars and eating cheese. I also teach Jojo to call his brother by his nickname, Terd Ferguson. Laughter ensues after every mention of the name, which just drives Jojo into a verbal lather of, TerdFergusonTerdFergusonTerdFergusonTerdFerguson.

Sissy arrives looking pale and haggard after a day of Christmas shopping. I am bright and refreshed, albeit a little swollen in the testicular region. I believe she expected both the situations and our countenances to be reversed. I laugh. She mockingly laughs back, and collects the boys. I get hugs and kisses, and tell the boys they can come over any time. As they leave, I hear Joseph tell my sister, Guess what Luke's new name is? I proudly smile, knowing that I've made a difference.

Note the diabolically crafty visage from the Nut Puncher in the background