Pulling wings off of butterflies

Did we just have a weekend? I hardly noticed and I know that I did not enjoy it nearly enough. Next time I will need to pay far more attention. I also feel like I did not spend enough time with the kids. In the end though, I did spend a few hours with them in the pool yesterday afternoon. It was an underwhelming experience and I still do not feel like I got my fill. Don't get me wrong, it was good boy bonding time. I helped protect Graham from the onslaught of girl abuse. I just don't think I did him any favors.

At this point I truly don't believe the girls have any realization or recognition of how mean they are to the Grahamster. The minute I level the playing field (or tip it in his direction) they go ballistic. They moan about how unfair it is and how mean we are. I find it completely ironic that we do the very same thing that they were doing to Graham just seconds before. Yet, in their minds, we are being mean when we do it. Yet, they seem to think that they were just having fun when they did it. I try and point out the interesting little comparison but the message seem to float unimpeded through their noggins.

Let me give you the scenario. We have 5 yellow foam swimming noodles - a daddy bear one, a mommy bear one and 3 twerpy bear ones. When the kids are in the pool it always becomes a battle of the sexes between who gets the noodles. There is a constant struggle as the girls try to steal whatever noodle(s) Graham has. So, to protect his honor, I slipped on my bathing suit, hopped in the pool, and I equalized. I stole the noodles from the girls. Oh, don't get me wrong. I left them with one. However, whenever they ganged up and tried again to steal one of Graham's noodles, I would steal one of theirs.

It never registered. No matter what comparisons I made and no matter how I explained it to them they just did not get it. They learned nothing from the exercise. In fact, the only thing that was solidified in their minds is the fact that I am one big meany.

They are like cats playing with some live animal they just caught. They torture it, give it the hope of escape and then torture it some more. In fact, they will continue torturing it, not until they believe they believe it is too cruel to continue, but rather until they have grown bored with it.

Hmmm. It might be hereditary.

Ooooooh, don't tell Lynley I said that.

I meant to say that I don't know where they got that from.

Enough already, I am off to my purpii before my mouth gets me in any more trouble.