Poor Wes. He stood there in my doorway with his hands in his pockets as he watched the chaotic scene unfold. Wes is the father of a little girl in Evan's preschool class. He came dutifully to retrieve a stuffed kitty cat that the girl had left at our house earlier that day. Wes only has one little girl, and I do not believe he is accustomed to the type of crazy he happened upon last night.
I suppose it was the perfect storm. It was 5:30, the witching hour. I had dinner cooking on the stove, Julian who was sitting in his highchair had just tired of his blueberries had begun to wail helplessly. Moments earlier I had informed the boys it was time to turn the television off, so a meltdown was eminent. The doorbell rang. Just as I answered the door, Zachary screamed, and didn't stop. "EVAN BIT ME! HE BIT ME!!! EVAN IS EVIL." And then Evan started crying. Wes wanted to get Kitty and get the hell out, but I invited him in, since I wasn't expecting him and had no idea where the stuffed animal was. He declined my offer and didn't take one tiny step in . Each one of my boys was crying at full capacity. Welcome to my life Wes.
Luckily I found Kitty quickly so I could hand "her" off and attend to my wounded boy, naughty son and crying baby. I watched Wes leave. Take me with you Wes. Take me to your peaceful home, where you will have dinner with your quiet little family. For the love of God, take me with you. He left.
I examined Zachary's leg and he had in fact been bitten. Brothers. This is my life. This scene which probably scared Wes for life is nothing unusual. I just hope someday they boys will be best friends, making it all worth it.