10 years

At this age my children started a whole new way of life; we call it ‘water conservation’. Something happens that all of a sudden rebel at the thought of having to climb into the dreaded tub. Having to take a bath was enough to make then a nervous wreck. I believe in conserving our natural resources as much as the next guy but not at the risk of becoming non-hygienic. When I did happen to force them to bathe (which was usually 3 weeks into their environmental consciousness) they refused to use soup. I think it was just a way of maintaining some kind of control over the situation. They would not comb their hair, change their clothes or use toilet paper. It is an awful feeling when you see flies buzzing around your child you are raising to carry on the family name. Names like "Pigpen" was often used to describe my child but I would have to stick up for the Peanuts character and admit he was not that bad. Seeing my child cry at this time and tears leaving mud trails down their faces was something I cringed at; a true facial mudslide. I would have to put netting over their faces to try and salvage what was left of them. I wanted to comfor them but the thought of touching then was more than I could bear. I’d get the broom out and stand across the room and pat them on the back, oh boy you should have seen the dust fly. I was always amazed when they pondered why people couldn’t accept them for who they were. Even the sock after days of not being changed was screaming harikari. After sleeping in their clothes day after day they began to smell as bad as the garbage. Many times I’d drag them out at 6 a.m. and leave them by the curb in hopes that the garbage truck would pick them up but not even the garbage men wanted them. "Sorry Ma’am it they’ll make the garbage smell bad." After sitting on the furniture I would have to have it disinfected. When I did manage to talk them out of their clothes, the pieces would go into a bag labeled "Caution, hazardous waste". Unfortunately this behavior lasted for a few years.
My kids are avid candy eaters. I must say that that is my fault. One of my sons was worse than others. He’d actually climb trees to get away from those that he might have to share with. He was also the one to get hurt. He was my accident waiting to happen. On one of his upward treks to be alone with his big bag of candy, he fell. He managed to hit every tree branch and a picket fence before he landed on the ground. I think he would have rather risked his life than to lose his candy. It is far better that one boy should perish than a bag of candy dwindle uneaten. When we ran outside we found his body mangled but he still had a tight hold of his treats.
My kids at about this age develop and eating disorder called, "I don’t care what it is, If I can chew it I want it." My grocery bill triples and the amazing thing was that they never gained weight. I think I could have done a movie called, "The kid who ate Manhattan". I did get a little concerned when they started going through everyone’s garbage and ours. The poor raccoons were found lying on the side of the road dying from starvation.
I had to do something when the Animal Rights Activists started carrying signs that read, "Unfair to our little woodland creatures, Slaters’ go home!" We began putting cement in their oatmeal as filler. It helped make them feel more full but it also made them constipated. All in all it was a fair trade-off