The Hole of Lust

Yesterday afternoon, as I was finishing my last garment of the year (a traditional Shetland cardigan with wool that I overdyed, don't ask me how long this one has been in process, I'm not even sure both boys were BORN when I started it), the boys were creating some sort of secret game in their room that involved tape (no ask, no tell). When I had the bread on the rise they asked me to come see their room, and the "HOLE OF LUST" sign was posted prominently on their bedroom door.

One must always attempt to not be an alarmist when raising boys (kids in general? I don't know, I only got boys), and I know spelling isn't their strong suit, so I calmly and without facial tics asked them what the sign said. "It's the Hall of Justice, from the Justice League of America", they said. Well, thank God for that. We need someone promoting justice and trouncing crime in this country, whether they can spell or not (no Presidential names mentioned).

I was led into a room that has TOP SECRET signs all over the closet door now. I was impressed. I think they might be a year or two ahead of their time in the concept of keeping everything hush hush and labeling their privacy. I know it happens between girls (because I have an older sister), and I know there's a stage in our lives when we want our sibs to be hands off our stuff (does that ever end?).

They wanted me to open their closet door. "No way", I said. "It's top secret."

"There's nothing in there", they said. Oops, they're still not clear on the practice. It's the IDEA that you MIGHT have something private and don't want others messing with it that is so important. The last thing you'd want to do is tell someone that it's all a sham.

But they'll catch on. I just know it.