I am pretty certain that our architect didn’t consider the practical ramifications of adding the large picture windows to the back of our house when he drew up our renovation plans. He probably thought it would be nice for us to look out over the woods at the edge of our backyard, a bucolic scene like something from a “Welcome to the Pine Barrens” postcard. Only, this isn’t the Pine Barrens. Rather, this is where children swing hockey sticks in the general direction of each other’s heads.
I know this, because, thanks to the picture windows our architect so thoughtfully planned for the rear of our home, I have now broken up not one, but two incidents of hockey stick swinging in my backyard this morning. This, in the very same spot where, several years ago, a similar incident ended up with one child creating the need for the other child to procure several stitches just behind his ear. If only we had had our wonderful picture windows back then, I might have observed the activity before the hockey stick drew blood. Instead, I ditched the dinner I was making and rushed to the E.R.
But now I have picture windows that provide a wide screen view of the goings-on in my backyard. It’s like High Definition TV in real life. First, I witnessed two children “removing weeds” by wildly hacking at them with large wooden hockey sticks while standing not quite far enough from each other’s swinging radius.
I yelled out one of my picture windows to stop it.
Not twenty minutes later, I saw two children begin imitating the U.S. Fencing team, only minus the protective gear and with, of course, hockey sticks.
I yelled out one of my picture windows to knock it off.
The hockey sticks have been put away—for now. This, so they can play some sort of game involving the throwing of some sort of pine cone at one another. Compared to the hockey sticks, this is, well, child’s play. And so, I reluctantly allow it to continue—as long as none of said pine cones are thrown toward my picture windows. When that happens, I’ll yell out the window again. Or maybe, I’ll pull down the shades.
Photo courtesy of MammaSaid