ready, set, slide

When he got home last night, our three older children approached Bill looking for the sympathy that their mother was unable to offer them. They each had hurting tummies. I thought they had bruised them, and didn’t even bother to look.

These three had been racing down the stairs on their stomachs. At first, I thought they were going down head first and yelled at them, threatened them, and warned them of the possibility of death should their heads hit the ceramic tile at the bottom. Then I found out they were going down feet first, and I said, “Well, you hurt your stomachs. That should be lesson enough.”

When they told Bill about their adventures, he didn’t offer them sympathy either. He just started laughing. And then they showed him their injuries and he laughed even more! They had rug burns! And then he asked them how many times they did it, and when they said more than once, he rolled on the floor with tears in his eyes.

I guess when he was about their age, he did something similar: feet first down the stairs. Only he was on his back. And the stairs were hardwood. His younger brother watched, but learned from Bill’s maiden voyage that this was a really stupid idea. So, Bill thought it was really funny that they raced down the stairs not once, but two or three times, disregarding the pain and only stopping when I yelled at them.

Nobody else was laughing.

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