If I Had A Hammer

Last Friday we were on our way to a record.  Getting someplace EARLY.  But there we were, on track for making a park playdate on time.  In part, because I was able to keep the kids occupied with a toy they rarely get to play with, while I cleaned up breakfast and packed the car.  It was a little wooden workbench and hammer that Travis used as a kid.  And Caden is really into tools these days.  Especially ones that work.  So he was stoked to play away as I worked.  Even so, I sternly read off the rules...  "This hammer is for the workbench ONLY."  And it was.  For a while...  until I hear some extended hammering, a pause, a sickening sound of the hammer contacting something not strong enough to be hammered, followed by Caden running to the gate to say, "Caden banged da hammer, over dere!"

Oh yes, that is one of the 30 small panes in our giant picture window in the playroom.  And this is what that pane looks like now, as we await repairs.  Drat.

Caden kept repeating himself over and over, while pointing.  Not in a proud way, more like the way you'd take the blame honestly if you accidentally caused a garbage truck to dump its load in your front yard.  You know there's no way to hide it...  might as well own up.   Which I appreciated.  As I dashed to remove the kids from the possibly glass-strewn area.  They didn't reenter the playroom until that evening and I had cleaned up approximately 198 times.  But really, that's all I could do.  Clean up, seal up and go on to the playdate.  Late.  As usual.

I'm sure this is only the first of the house repairs we will have to make for our little man over the years.  But I hope it will be the only one involving such a big window.