Can’t We All Just Knit For Once?

Categorized as 06/16/08 Goshen News article

The addition of Baby Kyle brings the total number of Schrock grandchildren to 15. Of those 15, 11 of them are boys. Interestingly, 9 of the 11 grandsons carry the Schrock name with Joel providing 2 of them, Quinn chipping in with 3, and Grant doing more than his fair share with 4. Together, they have ensured that the family name will not die out any time soon and that there will be many more testosterone-drenched family gatherings with Schrock males watching football and overheating the remote.

What is clear is that the women in the family will need to redouble their efforts at providing the essential feminine element and civilizing effect that estrogen brings. This calls for more girl talk over the coffee mugs, outbursts of girlish laughter, and the occasional mad dash for the outlet stores. We just want to do our part.

Speaking of a boy world, why, I ask you, must it frequently involve escapades that result in injuries? I’d like to get the brightest minds at one of the nation’s premier think tanks working on this because the answer eludes me completely. In my own personal experience with cross-stitching, scrapbooking, socializing over coffee, and voracious reading, I have never broken a bone, required stitches, or sprained anything. Unfortunately, our offspring have shown no inclination to engage in such benign activities (outside of reading), and thanks to the shenanigans of two of them, forced my Florence Nightingale suit out of retirement and turned the kitchen into their own private ER.

The directive that day was that they were to hie themselves out to the flowerbed by the chicken coop. They were to buckle down and, looking neither to the right nor to the left, get the job done in an expeditious manner. With their oft-stated aversion to weeding and their easy distractibility when working, they were sitting ducks for the errant ice cream truck that came toodling by about then.

Like the children of Hamelin following the Pied Piper, they hopped on their bikes and took off in hot pursuit. In the ensuing melee, one of them crashed his bike into a mailbox, skinning his knee terribly, and they limped home as “Pop Goes The Weasel” faded into the distance.

As I cleaned and bandaged the knee, I reminded them both of the importance of obedience and that there are generally consequences for disobedience. They were both feeling the pain, it was clear – the one because of his leg and the other because of the increased work his brother’s temporary incapacity now left him with.

The next day was mowing day. The instigator of the previous day’s unapproved “field trip” had done his portion. Picking up the other half of the team at noon, I explained to him that he was to eat his lunch before getting out there and doing his share of the mowing. He got the lunch part down pat, but that’s about it. Seeing the swings, he decided to have a quick one.

You would think that swinging would fall into the “harmless activities” category. Apparently not at our house. In an effort to take swinging to the next level, they did exactly that – they raised the height of the seat by flipping the whole caboodle once over the beam. When a link broke, throwing the would-be groundskeeper off, they presented again in the kitchen with Mr. Bunged-Up Knee now clutching his arm in pain.

Once again, we talked about obedience. Once again, there was consternation as we reviewed potential consequences. With the possibility of even more work for one of them and a summer without swimming for the camp-bound should he require a cast, the mood was grim indeed. You will understand, then, the joy and excitement with which we received the doctor’s words, “He has a bad sprain.”

As if that weren’t enough action generated by Schrock arms and legs this week, I took the grad and his limbs to town to pick up some last-minute supplies for his 12-day mission trip to Mexico. Don’t ask me how, but he ended up staging his own classic movie moment with a store display. One minute I was chatting with a friend and the next minute, there he was with school supplies cascading off the shelf onto the floor and bottles of laundry detergent bouncing around his feet.

I can’t decide which is more hazardous, taking them along or keeping them at home. This much is evident. We could use a good, old-fashioned, really boring week around here. Hey, maybe signing them up for knitting classes would do the trick. If those guys manage to injure themselves while knitting, I’m taking my own 12-day trip to Mexico. If they need me, they can leave a message.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *