Chick'n Drumsticks: Now I remember why I love Motherhood so much...

It might seem I post about Joshua more than the other kids. There's a reason for this. He's my Dennis the Menace, Calvin without his Hobbes, or any other comparison you might come up with. In otherwords, he provides for a plethora of stories. Not that the girls aren't interesting. But they really don't do anything life threatening. They don't really destroy anything. And in general, have quite a bit of common sense.

Joshua is a good kid, with a kind heart, and charming to a fault. That's why he hasn't gotten into any serious trouble with most adults or authority figures in general. However, he has NO IMPULSE CONTROL whatsoever! Now, I'm told by a sea of doctors this is the crux of the ADHD diagnosis, the lack of impulse control. I'm told that the ability to govern impulses is either a) absent in the brain or b) slow to react. In other words, in scenario number two, we all have a "stop sign" in our brains that says "Hmm, notta good idea. Try something else." In a person with ADHD, if there is a regulator at all, that "stop sign" comes up long after the impulse is followed.

This is why I will never be allowed to have nice things as long as my son lives in my house.

Now, at the tender age of eleven and three-quarters, a mother would think that she wouldn't have to hide things like black permanent sharpie markers. One would think. One would think that the "drawing on walls and furniture" stage was long past ooooooh about nine years ago. One would think. However, as I was getting the girls ready for swimming, Hannah-the-tattle-tale came running inside with her bathingsuit in hand and calmly announced, "Joshua wrote on the porch furniture."
Wait a minute. Maybe I didnt hear her right. "Joshua did what? Are you sure that was Josh?"
"Yeah. Come see. Joshua wrote all over the porch furniture with a sharpie marker."

So I walked out the front door behind Hannah who delighted in pointing at the porch glider. "See?"

And sure enough, there was writing on each plastic strap of my glider, and some writing on the opposite porch chair. Now, common sense would say, if I had been Joshua, anyway, hmm, I have a little sister. I could draw on this chair, and she'd probably get blamed. But noooooooooooooooo, it was rather clear who the culprit was.