Quirky family wrestles the dog
Every family has its rituals, little activities that comprise the DNA of daily life. Some are borne of necessity, and others — I guess — are just happenstances that calcify into habits.
Anyone who stumbled into our house would immediately notice the repeating idiosyncrasies of our family unit; so here are a few.
› Dog wrestling. Every night between 8 o’clock and 9 o’clock, our two sons, ages 16 and 11, retire to the master bedroom with our dog, Boise, a 15-pound poodle mix.
For the next 10 minutes, the air is filled with whoops, hollers and barks as the boys wrestle their furry friend. Toys are flung. Tummies are scratched. And the bed looks like WrestleMania at Madison Square Garden.
The boys call this “getting energy out.” It’s a way of resetting their nervous systems before bedtime. It seems like it would have a stimulating effect, but actually it does just the opposite. Within 30 minutes they all are asleep, Boise included.
› Blanket dragging. My family has a throw-blanket addiction. Everyone but me drags a blanket around the house like Linus in the “Peanuts” comic strip.
For the boys, the official house walking uniform is a pair of over-the-ear headphones, an iPad or laptop balanced on one hand and a throw blanket wrapped around their shoulders like a cape. They look like Roman soldiers searching the freezer for Popsicles.
› Pizza baking. Both our children would starve if it weren’t for DiGiorno pizzas. Conservatively, I would say the boys consume three to five DiGiorno pizzas a week. Always thin crust. Always pepperoni.
They claim they can’t cook them themselves. But I suspect this is just a cover story. The real reason is that they don’t want to disconnect from YouTube.
› Stick piling. We always have a stick pile in our backyard. That’s one of the joys of having a house in a wooded lot;
picking up sticks after a windstorm becomes a way of life.
Last week, a dead limb fell from a poplar tree. It was at least 6 inches wide, and it landed nose down, perfectly perpendicular to the ground, embedding itself in the earth like a boy’s pocketknife tossed into a chocolate cake. It was one of those coincidences of nature that make you go, “Hmm.”
› Mouse trapping. Another thing about living in the woods is that varmints are always trying to invade your property. Our visitors include voles, frogs, chipmunks and mice. My older son almost jumped out of his skin the other day when a frog the size of a Big Mac leaped at him from under the steps in the garage.
To catch the mice, we put out traps, including the sticky paper kind that allow you to relocate the rodent to a nearby field, where it can procreate and send back its children and grandchildren to storm the garage. This is multigenerational warfare.
› Pool shooting. As the boys get older, it has become harder and harder for them to agree on a family restaurant. Our best bet is usually Merv’s, the burger place on Mountain Creek Road.
Our ritual involves raiding the change basket at home for quarters and then dividing the change. Half goes to billiards and half goes to one of those clawhook games where you win tiny stuffed animals.
The stuffed animals go home with us to become toys for dog wrestling.
And the circle of life begins anew.
Contact Mark Kennedy at mkennedy@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6645.