Something I have to remember about this middle school age is the changeability of the breed. Child one moment, adult the next. Tre, who was way too old last week to grace his brothers with his presence, has rediscovered this week the joys of hide and seek. Raphael has finally tipped juuuuust over the line between "scared" and "thrilled" when they turn off all the lights and hide in the basement. Sometimes he panics and flashes his little flashlight around, causing his brothers great horror and disgust. But for the most part, he sticks with the game. Since he's on board with the hiding and seeking, rather than running upstairs in tears, the three of them can play for hours.
Tonight they turned off every light in the house (Clay was a co-conspirator), and rampaged, upstairs and down. The only light in the house was my laptop, as I sat and chatted with Mir and shook my head at their...boyness. You love it, she told me, unconvinced by my head shaking.
She's right, too. Tre swept past me, nearly undetectable in the dark, because he was wearing the cloak from his Harry Potter costume. I say NEARLY, because he was beset by giggles at the sight of Max, who was crouched by my chair and making faces in the glow of my screen.
Then it was Raphael's turn to seek, and he perched on the chair arm, at my elbow. He was aquiver with the excitement of it all, One hand squirmed through my hair, and he bellowed the numbers, deafening me before he reached 40. Then he hollered, "ready or not, here I come!" and he leaned over and kissed me, jumped up, and ran off.
Soon the sounds of three happy, wild boys filtered up from the basement, and I listened and smiled.
Some days there is no peace between them. Other days it is bliss.