Shaking My Head

It goes without saying, I'm sure, that with 5 kids in the herd I often see things in the house that leave me shaking my head. Always, when I see such a sight, a little voice in my head says "don't ask." But then I do.

Twice this week I encountered such a scenario.

This was the first:

Why, yes. Yes. That is a pot full of rocks. I found it on the kitchen island after all of the kids had gone to school. 

The second scenario was much more disturbing:

I was somewhat mortified. "The child responsible for this might need some sort of therapy" I thought, as I stood shaking my head. 

These things were not cause for alarm with the children. Not at all. The Boy, it turns out, pilfered some rocks from the local creek. (I hear the distant echo of Leave No Trace camp lessons floating on the wind.) He boiled them for his fiddler crabs to hide under in the aquarium. Makes perfect sense. I was worried we were having stone soup for dinner. He even used an old, rusted pot. Sweet boy. 

And the unclothed doll strung up from a tree branch?

No worries. The girls were making a video production. That's Miley on her wrecking ball. 

Huh. That was not my first impression.

Shaking my head.