I don’t like it when my house gets too quiet. As the mother of two little boys, silence makes red flags go up in a hurry.
I have become quite talented in tuning out the everyday sounds of fights over whose truck is whose and whose turn it is to play with the fireman. I am used to fearing the ceiling falling in as my three-year-old, Tucker, flies off of his bed and subsequently stomps across his bedroom floor. And I no longer bat an eye when I hear the entire contents of the Legos box, blocks and matchbox car basket being dumped in unison.
But silence? Silence makes my heart race and causes me to book it up the stairs two at a time to find out what is going on.
Recently, silence befell the house and my heart dropped. Please let them be all right. Racing up to the second floor, I feared they were hurt, but was quickly reassured when I heard muffled giggling coming from Tucker’s bedroom. That’s usually about as bad as silence. Heading in I was met by a locked door (also not a good sign), which I expertly picked with a tool from Tucker’s play medical kit.
In I went to find Tucker standing on top of his dresser, yes, on top, with Max, my one-year-old, right at his heels standing in the rocking chair beneath him. All the contents of his dresser, including the smaller drawers, all the sheets and stuffed animals from his bed, and all the dirty clothes from his laundry basket had been strewn around the room. I said nothing, just looked at Tucker who in turn said to me, “Max did it too.”
So you can imagine my angst when the other night the silence once again returned to my usually noisy home. Again, I ran as fast as possible up stairs fearing the worst, this time the worst being less injury and more an hour of sorting and cleaning up clothes off the floor. You will never believe what I saw when I got to the top of the stairs and turned the corner to Tucker’s room: My two boys reading books in Tucker’s bed.
As fast as I ran in, I tiptoed backwards out. You don’t see me! You don’t see me! Please keep doing what you are doing for the next five hours.
No such luck, I had been spotted. The silence was over. I am so grateful that I caught this moment on film as it will probably never again happen.