As we’re nearing the end of summer break, and 3 months at home with my children, I have become painfully aware of how often they completely ignore what The Canadian and I tell them. Oh we’ve had all the talks, the “We tell you no because we know what’s best for you” chat,  followed by the “We’re saying this because we love you” lecture, along with the frequent time-outs, the removing of toys and privileges, and anything else we can think of. But lately, and I hope I’m not outing myself as a horrible parent here, it seems like they never listen. And not only do they not listen, they have gotten old enough that none of our usual punishments seem to be enough to deter them from disobeying over and over again.

Sometimes, you just reach that point of desperation where you’ve tried everything, sat them in a corner, turned off the television, taken away every toy they own, and still just want to throw your hands in the air and give up.

And that, my friends, is where I was today, when a power bigger than I stepped in to run interference and save my sanity.

I posted earlier this week about the storms we’ve had, and while we didn’t get a lot of damage, there was a lone tree in a neighboring lot that couldn’t stand up to the winds. The boys spotted it lying on the ground shortly after the rain had passed and they’ve been dying to go see it ever since. We told them to get ready for church this evening, and that The Canadian would take them over to investigate before he went to drop them off.

“Don’t go over there without your dad. There could be snakes or you could get hurt.”

Famous last words.

You see, Roenick is just like his father, and his grandpa, and…well…pretty much every man on the face of the planet, in that his way is the best way, or at the very least, better than your way. There seems to be some confusion as to whether or not his brother told him they had permission, but either way they ended up at that fallen tree, all by themselves.

Literally three minutes later, Roenick burst through the front door…

…looking like he had been in a fight with a bear. But there was no bear, not even an angry raccoon, he had just climbed on the tree and promptly fallen off.

(The best part of this whole situation? Roenick yelling as I took his picture, “This better not end up on Facebook!! Oh mom, I know you’re gonna put this on Facebook!” At which point I assured him, “No it won’t. It’s going on my blog.”)

It was one of those moments where I didn’t even have to tell him he was in trouble, he knew it as soon as his face met the tree on the way down. So I walked him to the bathroom, cleaned him up, made sure he was okay and, like any good mother, I laughed at him.

Okay, so he may have gotten pretty mad at me for laughing, but it was worth it. He had finally learned his lesson. Mom and Dad really do tell us things for a reason, and when they say it’s because they love us, they might actually mean it. You can tell them those things until you’re blue in the face, but nothing really drives that point home quite like being attacked by a tree.

Kid vs. tree? Tree wins. Every.time.