Boys are like hurricanes

Of course, if you have a boy--or (gulp) multiple boys--you know this. But as a non-mom, I am repeatedly surprised by this fact, by the whirling energy they spin off, by the way my brain spins when they leave the house.

My church runs a Kids Club on Wednesday nights for mostly neighborhood kids, mostly kids of immigrant families. I'm one of the leaders. Because I live in the neighborhood also, kids have often want to come over to my house to hang out.

I don't have a Wii or anything; I think the kids are just incredibly bored. Practically every day as I walk my dog around the block, I hear at least 2 or 3 times, "Can we go to your house?" As a never-married person who loves kids but never had any, I appreciate having these kids around, and enjoy having them over.

And then of course there is the hermit crab in me who doesn't want anyone ringing the doorbell (and ringing and ringing), doesn't want to be bothered, doesn't want to make pudding or rent a movie or color. In Blue Like Jazz, Don Miller talked about how some people are like an electric razor that you can get about 2 hours use out of, before needing to recharge for another 22 hours. The description seems about right. But I'm working on it.

Because I have one group of sisters over quite often, the boys often get jealous. As I drop the Avila sisters off at their apartment building, my car is sometimes surrounded by furious little boys telling me that I never have them over even though Maria and her sisters always get to come over. And it's true that I find boys harder to handle.

Four boys came over Sunday afternoon and we put in a movie, and then made pudding, and then "What is this for? Where did you get it? Can I have it?" and "Look, it's a stamp! Get the paper!" and "What else is in the fridge?" and "Can I go upstairs and ride your exercise bike?" and "Where's Chloe? Why is she hiding under the table? I want to pet her!" and...practically all at once.

I know this is what parents manage every day, all day, God bless 'em, but I'm not very skilled at it. So, when they took off I did take a deep breath and revel in the silence for awhile. But if I had the choice between "peace and quiet" and not having these children in my life, of course I would choose the pudding/questions/crayons/chaos. In two hour spurts, of course.