I love my younger siblings. They bring joy to my life and make me smile when I really don't feel like it. And my Shamira's smile can brighten up an overcast day. But sometimes, I can't help but wish that I can use a big rope to tie them all together in the middle of my living room and leave them there until my parents return or take them for a good old-fashioned car ride to talk (see picture). Okay, so that's just a bit drastic and I would never do it (although its a nice thought) but trying by my lonesome to keep seven children out of trouble for hours, and me being just a teenager myself, is no walk in the park on a nice summer day. Me being a good daughter or just being stupid (kind of hard for me to tell the difference at times), I volunteered to babysit while my mother and father took some time to themselves even though I know that every time they get in the wind, it could be hours and hours before I see them again.
This time I thought that I was prepared, as I had found Sorry, Monopoly, and cards for them to play with. I figured that we could have a good, old-fashioned night of family fun. Wrong! Three of the older children shut my 7-year-old sister out of the game. She sarted crying, they started to tease her, and chaos ensued. My 4-year-old sister decided that she wanted to kick the teasing up a notch and slapped her sister. They started fighting and everyone started to choose sides. I tried to stop the fight and they all ignored my pleas to be kind to one another. Shamira, my 2-year-old daughter, decided to pull up a chair and get a front row seat to the action. I don't know who, but someone pushed someone else, who tripped over the chair she was sitting in and they all fell.
After all of this, I was completely fed up and I knew I had to regain control of the situation. I took the games away, turned off the television in the living room, and demanded quiet time. I thought I had gotten the job done until my 7-year-old sister began crying again and saying that my little brothers were making faces at her every time I turned my back. I did not want to be cruel to them, but my efforts were appearing fruitless and desperate times called for desperate measures.
I sent each of them to their respective rooms and told them they were not allowed to come out. I enlisted Shamira as a hall monitor and together we patrolled the hallways to make sure that everyone was following the rules and did not step a foot outside of their rooms. I felt like a corrections officer and I'm sure my younger siblings felt like prisoners but it was the only way I felt I could teach them a lesson. I could lie and say that, after lockdown, my house was so quiet you could hear a pindrop. I heard booms, bangs, and other noises that I dared not guess the origin of. My brothers were wrestling and pushing each other from the bunk bed and the girls were playing school with my 12-year-old sister as the school marm, but in her school all pupils had to do WHATEVER she said and be at her beck and call.
Always one to persevere, I am far from a quitter. But, at the hands of seven children from the ages of 2-13, I couldn't help but drop to my knees and beg for mercy. Another win for the young ones...
No comments:
Post a Comment