After my two kids got home later in the afternoon on Friday, before the weekend started, they weren't in the best mood to be around their parents. Mark and Valentino completely ignored us as they slammed the front door shut. Tore off their cozy, warm, leather jackets at the coat rack, next to the front door. And Russell and I watched from the living room couch, as Mark and Valentino both, grumpily stormed to their rooms.
Russell turned to look at me with concern and affection in his eyes. "I'll go talk to them, love," he said. Kissing me on my forehead, I collapsed on the sofa and passed out. As I heard my husband, Russell hurrying through the hallway, down the dark aisles, I knew it was going to take my kids to gain a lot more trust to get their father's attention again.
While I was passed out on the love couch in the living room, I could hear Russell, my husband, pounding on their bedroom doors. Making the walls in the hallway and living room shutter. "Boys! Open the door! It's your father! I want to talk to you both and explain to us your behavior," I overheard Russell shout from down the hall.
I heard the doorknob in the hallway, to my two sons bedroom door, click open. It swung open. Russell tried to check in on them. When nobody was there, one of the ornery boys had tossed a banana cream pie at my husband's face! Creamy white foam got all over his casual t-shirt he wore.
Groaning with disgust, Russell wiped his face off and slung the gunk onto the floor. Frustrating Russell, he was about to barge into my two son's room from down the hall. When I heard the two wacky kids bursting out into hysterical laughter. I heard them slam the door onto my husband's face. He jumped back and flinched. Wiping more whipped cream off his eyes and bearded face, Russell stormed away. Walking back toward the living room, I stood in front of me by the couch in the living room.
Opening one eye slowly, I carefully looked at my husband's angry, cream splattered face and pointed and laughed at him. "You think this is all a joke, honey?" Russell demanded, angrily. He started pacing back and forth in front of the living room.
I sat up and leaned over. "Darling, they're just kids blowing off some steam. Let them be kids while they still can. We can only keep them with us for so long. The house will settle and be quiet when they are both gone, out of the nest," I said, trying to make a promise to my husband, Russell.
Nodding, I could see my loving husband's face filled with relief. He sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa and our widescreen television and sighed heavily. "I can tell how much those two boys really love Halloween," Russell was telling me. "But they can't just go all year long in their Halloween costumes, scaring everybody with them. Because they think it's funny," Russell said.
I stopped laughing and turned to look seriously at my husband, Russell. "You've also got to understand they are still our kids, dear," I said, honestly. "Kids will always be kids. No matter what they do. Kids do things we're not always proud of. But just be grateful they still have parents who are both still in love together. And want to do our part in protecting them the best we can know how," I said, trying to keep my husband calm and relaxed.
I could tell Russell was not looking his best. He was breathing heavily and coming out in short wheezy breaths. "We should just let them be kids, you're saying?" Russell asked me. I nodded as I wiped some smeared whip cream off my husband's blubbery right cheek. Stuck the white whipped cream on my long right finger and took a bite of it. Russell turned away and cringed with disgust; I laughed at him in response.
"I'm going to go get myself cleaned up, dear," Russell said, swallowing hard. He got off the brown, wooden coffee and walked to our bedroom down the hall, past our two son's bedrooms. After Russell passed their bedroom, he jumped back at the sound of the two brothers' fighting each other. As one of the other boys had slammed one of brother's back across their bedroom. Making one of our family portraits fall to the ground and shatter the glass off the wall, next to their bedroom.
"What are they up too, now?" Russell growled, impatiently. Trying to open their bedroom door, they were both too busy fighting with each other, to pay attention to us. I got off the couch and hurried over to comfort my startled little family.
I gently knocked on their bedroom door loudly. "What's going on in there, kids? What's the matter with you two?" I demanded. Putting our ears against their bedroom door, Russell and I both jumped back again. And collapsed onto the floor. As our two sons, Mark and Valentino, slugged each other. Then, everything got eerily quiet.
I turned and looked at my husband, worriedly. Then, we turned to look at their bedroom doorknob. Hearing it clicks open. Standing up wobbly onto his feet, Russell grabbed hold of the doorknob, shakily. It swung open, knocking Russell and myself back to the floor on top of each other.
Grabbing hold of their skateboards, Mark and Valentino both wore helmets and kneepads as they hurried out of their bedroom. Not bothering to notice us and stormed out of the front door.