Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

Sitting around the dinner table the other night, we reminisced about the trouble they got into when they were little.  I reminded Gavin of how I used to do criss-cross applesauce on his back in primary to keep him quiet.  "Oh yeah!" he said, "I remember!"  Adam told him about when he took three year old Gavin out of primary to the hall, kicking and screaming.  Adam calmly put him over his shoulder and said, "I'm bigger than you are.  I'll wait until you're ready."

I don't think Adam could do that now.

I told Mark about when I buckled him in his car seat during church, kicking and screaming.

I don't think I could do that now.

Good thing the boys became more civilized.

Adam asked them if they remembered taking walks before primary to get their wiggles out.  It was sort of genius. Every Sunday he'd take them both outside to count sprinkler heads on the church lawn.  Even when it was raining.

They remembered the time they hid out on the stage all during primary and no one ever caught them.  "What?!?" I said.

"Yeah," Mark said, sheepishly, "I guess we never told you about that one." (I'm guessing their primary teachers were relieved that day.)

I told them about the time Mark came home from Gavin's and told me he'd given another kid a bloody nose.  I felt bad (and let's face it, worried about repercussions from the other kid's mother).  "What happened?" I asked, exasperated.

"Gavin threw me at him."

Then I felt a little better.  I wouldn't have to take the entire heat for that one.

The other day I heard them downstairs wrestling over cookies.  Lots of crashing to the ground and thumping noises and laughter.

They are like big puppies.

I love these boys.

As evidenced by the following pictures, sometimes you've just got to flatten Mark.  It's the only way.