the joy of raising boys

I have learned...

boys plus swords

equals

jabbed eyes, bruised knees, and busted lamps.

(Side note: I've also learned that if boys watch movies like Tarzan- even if it is Disney- they will from then on be swinging from vines and slaying tigers)

I remember regretting my sword purchase from Target even before the plastic thing had made its way from the trunk of our car into our apartment.  

Since Halloween last year (where it served its purpose in making Jonny's knight costume that much more authentic- according to mom) it has been tucked away in the dark corner of some stuffed closet...

until today.

After discovering the sword's hiding spot, Jonny brought the cursed toy to me and asked if he could play with it. I gave in.  "You can play with the sword but the first hit or jab at someone or something, the sword goes back in the closet." 

Hello!

What was I thinking? What else do you do with a sword besides swing it around and jab it at things? The sword playing lasted all of about 60 seconds, and although Jonny never hit or knocked anyone or anything down, the look on his sweet two-year-old  face was enough to make me want to burn the thing. 

Have a look.

See what I mean? Where did that "I'm about to take your head off" look come from? 

By the power of Grayskull

I could have just painted his face blue and had him cast in Braveheart. 

What you don't see in this shot is that Jonny is holding the sword up to my throat... and we were done!

Tomorrow's post: Jonny's soft side (just to prove to you- and remind me -that he has one)