Swimming, playing, anarchy and open warfare

8 Sep
This morning I bought L1 her third pair of goggles in three weeks. L2 is paying for these (in the abstract, at least – he gets less money to spend at the Village Fayre) since he was the instrument of the second pair’s destruction. Details are hazy, but what is beyond dispute is the simple fact that pre paddling pool there were goggles with the eye parts fastened by the requisite nose clip; post paddling pool, the nose clip was ripped asunder.

In addition, L2 was also a pair of goggles down. Fortuitously, he already (for reasons which probably warrant their own piece) has three pairs of goggles. Now, however, one of these three is awol, previously perched precariously in a tree, now apparently somewhere within that tree, nestled in its depths of verdant foliage.

I wonder when I’ll be able to leave them together to play without the underlying spectre of damage, destruction and injury omnipresent. Sometimes, they have hours of focussed fun, operating in their own little world far removed from reality, and it’s wonderful, they have such fun and I love to hear it. But sometimes it’s walking inadvertently into a war zone, belongings soaring along with tempers.

This morning, we were late for swimming, and of course I had to replace the destroyed goggles for others, so I sent them into the changing room together, an advance party, with strict instructions to get changed without anarchy.

Fat chance.

When I arrived, two, maybe three minutes later, both were changed but looking chastened. “L2 punched me in the face”, L1 reported, faithful to effect but not necessarily cause.  “She used my arm for a tug of war,” L2 responded, dolefully, revealing a chafed red spot on his wrist.

Times like that, I’m not really sure what to say.
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