If you’ve met my youngest child, Emory, who is everything boy, this story will not surprise you. I often post things like this about him on Facebook and Instagram because to be honest, he’s crazy. Manic at times. And Eliza Jane is typical middle child go-with-the-flow, I’ll do whatever anyone tells me to, which is not a good combo when Emory is ‘in charge’.
Here we go: yesterday school was over for the two big kids so I told everyone to shut off their Chromebooks because Lord knows 7.5 hours on technology will fry one’s brain cells. Remember that commercial in the 80’s or 90’s with the egg in the frying pan – the ‘this is your brain on drugs’ commercial? Well, I feel like that’s how we’re all going to feel in about 40 years, from being on these dang computers all.day.long.
I told the kids to shut off their Chromebooks and go outside to play. Emory promptly burst into tears, picked his up and started to walk outside WITH it in his clammy little hands!
“No sir.” I said, sternly. More tears.
I took the Chromebook back inside and sat it on the dining room table where he and Eliza Jane had been doing their school work.
Now, side note, Emory is technically not in school, but when brother and sister are constantly on their devices he feels left out so I let him do “school work” aka PBS Kids for the last 30 min of the school day. #winning
Okay, so we were all outside playing, having a jolly good time when Reynolds made Eliza Jane mad/sad/emotional, so she had a meltdown and asked to go see the neighbor. Sure. Whatever. Stop crying.
Some short time later, I walked into the house through the front door and lo and behold Eliza Jane AND Emory are sitting at his Chromebook watching a show. I was like, “WHATAREYOUDOING!?”
Back out they went. Not long after that, as I stood in the kitchen chopping garlic for our supper…. I looked out the window and realized I didn’t see any of my three children.
I walked to the back deck and yelled for them.
I yelled louder.
Not trying to sound completely hysterical, I yelled one last time.
“M’am!?” Came Reynolds’ voice from the garage. We talked; He obviously couldn’t hear me screaming. And he had no clue where his brother or sister were.
I walked back inside the house and through the front windows, noticed them sitting on the bench on the front porch.
I walked to the front door, opened the door and proceeded to ask what they were doing and I get this mischievous look from Emory, who AT THE SAME TIME IS CLOSING/CLUTCHING his Chromebook and for the second time in less than 15 minutes I was stunned!
This literally cannot be happening. I’m banging my head on a brick wall. NO.One. is listening/obeying.
I grabbed the Chromebook and sent both kids to their rooms for deliberately disobeying me.
Y’all won’t believe this.
Less than five minutes passed and I heard them upstairs chatting it up like they’re at the ice cream shop! I walked up the stairs, and Emory is UNDER THE BED talking and presumably hiding with Eliza Jane.
“GET.OUT.” I said. And without a peep, he got up and went back to his room, where again, he burst into tears.
I may have thrown my hands up in the air. Blown away. Y’all. This kid is the reason I dye my hair. God knows I love him to bits, but Lord help me I am silver-headed.
In the midst of his final melt-down, somehow he gave up and passed out.
Until next time…