The Gnome Revisited

Pre-ramble… I just read the blog I wrote last night. It was nearly 1 a.m. when I finished it. I couldn’t think very clearly by then and it shows. My brain hurts from reading it again. All this to say that the deep thoughts are getting set aside for now as I have something a little lighter to share today.

In a previous post called, “A Gnome Under Our Home” which I should link here but don’t have time to figure out how, I talked about a little joke I played with my boys about a gnome living under our home. My friend Rudi even wrote a song for us. I’ll get his permission to post the lyrics soon.

Anyway, I imagined that our family would tell stories for years about this little gnome under our home. We would make up adventures about him and the stories would be told year after year becoming part of our family history.

So when we were camping (me and 6 boys) recently, I asked them if they wanted to play the game where you tell the story one sentence at a time. When it’s your turn you add to the story. I gave them ground rules: no pooping parts, you can’t make the gnome die off until everyone gets to go at least two times, and no crude talk. (Can you tell I’ve played this game with boys before?)

I started by saying: There is a gnome underneath our home.

In my girly mind, I saw the little gnome something like a miniature Gandolf, tired but magical and old. Very old and wise. The boys didn’t think that way. Here is how our story unfolded…

The gnome was old and had lived under our house for over 100 years. He could never get out of the crawlspace… unless he farted which launched him right to the second story. One day an owl crawled under the home and shouted, “It stinks in here.” As the gnome dropped down the vents into the crawlspace again, he saw the Owl and told him why it smelled. The owl, who at first seemed nice, was really evil. Before the gnome knew what was happening, little baby owls with Oozies (I have no idea how to spell that), came out from under the owl and started shooting at the gnome. But the gnome was no dummy. He grabbed his rocket launcher and blasted every last owl baby. But when the rocket launcher blasted, the owl babies suddenly turned into little Spider-owls and climbed all over the walls, making it impossible for the gnome to eradicate them…. (Eradicate is my word but it was something similar)

After that, I’m not sure what happened to our little gnome. But let me assure you, it was a blood bath and I’m not sure who survived, if anyone. In fact, the house may have gone up in flames as well. The point is that my little gnome didn’t exactly have the story I wanted him to have. Poor guy. I would have had him eating cookies and singing show tunes. Maybe not, since I’m pretty sure he’s straight. A little joke for my gay friends. Anyway, it was a prime example of the differences between how boys and girls think. I want beauty and song, and they want violence and bodily noises. 

Living with these boys is always an adventure and most of the time I love it, unless they’re all doing arm farts at the same time. One at a time is okay, but a symphony of arm farts is a little much.

Next week I get to take my niece shopping for her birthday. I am looking forward to the girl time, but in the end I know I was meant to be the mom of boys – gnomes with rocket launchers and all.


Categories: A Day in the Life, Parenting Boys, Uncategorized | 5 Comments

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5 thoughts on “The Gnome Revisited

  1. way better story than my song!!! i almost went the uzi’s, blood and guts route, but in the end, i guess i think more like a girl now, or at least a gay man with the cookies and silly songs?!? my wife’s suspicions may be confirmed!! ha!

  2. lynnhouse

    Silly songs are one thing, working on your landscaping while singing “The Hills Are Alive” is another. My friend, M, can attest to that. We have great discussions on musicals and how some of them parallel life so well.

    BTw, have you seen “Once”? Not sure if you would like it or not since it can be a bit depressing and you’re all happy, smily guy all the time. But the music is great. Actually, I’m curious to know if you would like it or hate it. Bret fell asleep but he swears he liked it.

  3. I think you should run Boy Camp in the summer. 7 days of nothing but boy stuff. I’ll send my 2.

    Then in return, I’ll offer Margarita Camp for you…

  4. lynnhouse

    Amy, that is so funny. You can forget the Margarita Camp afterwards… that would need to run in conjunction with the Boy Camp.

    If I’m going to have a load of boys here to investigate dead rats in the crawlspace, see how hard they can tackle each other during “flag” football, compete against each other for most insane way to jump into the pool or how to gross out the girls in the neighborhood, not to mention the airsoft wars they think might be a fun idea…I’m going to need an “underground” Margarita camp that very week. I promise your boys will be safe.

    Oh, I am sure we’ll have some sort of musical aspect to the camp, too, as they are asking for bigger amps and a drum set for Christmas.

    Shoot me now.

  5. Lynn — Pretty sure I just heard a news report that due to the economic downturn, Santa’s workshop had to halt production of amps and drum sets, idling hundreds of elves and thrilling thousands of mothers.

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