I apologize for not posting last week. We had a tragedy in our extended family.
So…Elder leaves for college next week. In the sorting of what we have and what we need, I mentioned, “And I have that microwave downstairs you can use.”
“Oh.” Elder tilted his head. “I wanted to blow that microwave up.”
Eyebrows hitting my hairline, I responded, “Get a job, buy a microwave, and blow your own microwave up.”
“Not a big explosion,” Elder assured me. “I just wanted to try to microwave fire.”
I am raising intelligent boys.
But they are still boys.
Maybe I should just go back to letting them shoot fireworks at each other.
At least then my microwave will be safe.