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This morning after an early date night and a long night’s sleep only occasionally interrupted by the sound of rain slapping at the window from the tropical storm spinning lethargically in the Gulf of Mexico, I went to go pick up the boys.  When I went out to my car which happened to be parked in the driveway, I found that our basketball goal had snapped and fallen over in the wind.  Unfortunately my car broke its fall.  The blessing is that the goal was kind enough to only leave a long scuff mark from the roof of my car down the back side. Thankfully, it came off with a little rubbing compound.

This isn’t the only assault that a car of mine has taken from that evil hoop.  Several years ago when we first bought it, we were instructed to fill the base with water or sand and anchor it with a straight plastic stake that came with it.  Well, the water evaporated; the wind blew it over, pulling the stake out of the ground; and it knocking the driver’s side mirror right off my car.

With a little more conscious effort, we made sure to refill the water more often, but to no avail…It later fell on the same car and hit the driver’s side door with such precision that the hoop wedged itself down inside the slot that the window rolled down into.  It was rather impressive aside from the fact that it smashed the window.

Still…we kept it.  We finally got one of those cork screws that goes down into the dirt that can keep a 200 pound Mastiff from jerking it out of the ground when trying to chase squirrels just beyond the limit of his chain.  It worked!  For years!  But the thing actually broke away from its base last night.  It must have overheard Greg talking about getting rid of it just recently…

So, off I went to get the kids and Pierce has been a moody little monster all day after coming home from Grammy and Papa’s.  He should be hanging out with that ornery tropical storm Debby since his mood changes with her wind gusts.

He’s been whiny.  When his dad and Mikey left to run a couple of errands, I was in the other room.  All of a sudden Pierce had a screaming sobbing fit like they both took turns sucker punching him before they walked out the door.  He was pissed and heartbroken with abandon.

There was a clear spell in the weather, so I suggested going out to swing in the back yard.  He whimpered “yes” then “no” then “yes” then “no”—this would still be going on if I hadn’t just made the decision for him.

Once in the swing, he was not totally recovered from his tantrum, but started coming around a bit. Then he told me he wanted to “go in house.”  I asked if he was sure and he said “yes” so I got up to take him out of the swing, and he started to panic wanting to keep swinging.  This went on a few times until I realized he was “effing” with me.  He got his though…I twisted the swing about eight times and let him spin like an ice skater until he was sufficiently dizzy.  He was beginning to be fun, again, when the wind blew up again, and one gust was so big that those brown eyes got huge and filled with concerned.  He whimpered “nunder” (thunder) and communicated that he was done swinging.

We went and laid on my bed where I surfed on my computer and the next thing I know he has passed out using my magnificently padded hind end for a pillow.  Thank God!  Some peace for a little while…

After his nap, he wandered out in the back yard with his dad.  Once again, the wind picked up, and just before the back door blew closed Pierce came swooping in through the narrowing  space in the nick of time,  like there was a monster chasing him—eyes huge and terrified, again.  Then he turned around, put his palm out like a traffic cop and yelled “You STOP!” to the wind.  It didn’t…

The brothers played and fought all evening–enough to make us lose our patience more than once, but finally one is asleep.  Unfortunately the nap that Pierce took on my rear has ruined an early bedtime for him.  He’s been nagging  me to go turn on Peppa Pig in my bedroom so he can lie in my bed, but I won’t do it because I am too lazy, and I am trying to find amusement in this day by writing about it in a blog post.  He’s been in a loud and mouthy snit since hearing the word “no”, but it appears that he has finally surrendered and put himself to bed.  Whewww….I’ve heard that the “three’s” can be more terrible than the “two’s.”  I’m afraid…so very, very afraid…