The Amish in the area have a saying about having boys work for you: One boy, one boy. Two boys, half boy. Three boys, no boy. That means with twin boys, I only have half a boy. And that was their level of judgment tonight.
One twin is careful and precise; the other is impulsive. One has the privilege of using the riding mower while we are still working on the driving skills of the other.
Steve is paddling in Michigan, so I left the boys by themselves while I ran some errands and picked up a pizza. What a bucolic scene when I left: the sun just came out after the rain and the boys were playing catch. When I got home less than an hour later, that sure had changed.
While I was gone, they decided to mow the meadow even though they are not allowed to use power machines or tools without supervision and the careful twin decided he was going to teach the impulsive twin how to drive. When I pulled in the driveway, the mower was going 90 miles an hour (at least that’s what it seemed like) with the impulsive boy driving while the careful boy was hanging on the back yelling for him to stop. Well, stop they did. Stopped by the large trailer full of stone. No one was hurt, thank God. The mower has a huge dent in the front and the hood doesn’t close, but it still runs. They wanted to fix it after dinner with a hammer, but I thought enough damage was done.
Now what I don’t understand was their reaction. “Boy, are we going to be in trouble with Dad.” What about the trouble they were in with me? Somehow Dad’s discipline counts more than Mom’s.