Reiley and Dad were wrestling on the kitchen floor. A scene that plays out more and more often these days. I sit by pretending not to care, acting as official judge, but I can't hide my smile. I love having boys. Owen jumps in, or more like jumps on the heap. He's not really noticed, his 40 lbs. He lands a few punches, but really it's like watching a mouse beat up an elephant.
Dad pins Reiley in some wrestling position, leaving his butt exposed. Always cheering for the underdog, I coach Owen from the sideline. "Spank Reiley's butt Owen, spank him!" Reiley wiggles and squirms to avoid what's coming. Owen laughs then asks "What's a spanking?"
Reiley and I were watching TV, the Olympic Cheerios commercial where the boy mails an athlete a post card. Reiley admits to me "You know mom, I don't know how to do that." "What?" I ask "Mail something?" "Yeah, I can email him, but I don't know how to send paper."
I imagine 30 years ago, I be viewed as a failure as the matriarch to this family. Failing to enforce dicipline and teach life skills. Owen doesn't know what a spanking is, Reiley can't send a letter, and well, the dog has never had her nose stuffed into a puddle of pee. I'm glad times have changed, but I really should teach the boy what a stamp is.