Stinky Shoes or Stinky Cheese?

As a mother, discipline and control are very important to me. I'm quite proud of the fact that in our household of teenagers there is no backtalk, and there are no dramatic tantrums. I'm serious about that. Not even eye rolling. Most people don't believe me until they see it, but it's true. People ask me how I manage to do that. I'm not sure exactly. If I knew what the magic technique is, I'd write a book and make millions of dollars. My best guess is that it was our parental attitude as the children were growing up. We just didn't tolerate disrespectful behavior. So maintaining a serious attitude while asking a child, "How long ago did you put Cheez Whiz in your brother's shoes," can be very difficult.
This interrogatory was posed to Baby Monkey just the other day. It wasn't a question that I thought of out of the blue. I had my reasons. Middle Monkey has been in some deep do-do for not following rules. He also managed to lose his cell phone, and in order to pay back the expense of a new phone, he's had to do some heavy cleanup work in the basement. He worked like a day laborer breaking up a heavy but crumbling shelf in the basement. I then asked him to take all the broken timbers into the backyard where we would cut them into manageable pieces and stack for trash day. Everything was going along just fine. We had pretty decent weather for mid-February in Philadelphia. The sun was shining brightly, and the temperature was in the mid 40's. I set up saw horses and a power saw and was about to show Middle Monkey how to safely use a power tool when I spotted an odd sight. Just a few feet away in my carefully designed shade garden, tucked up against the walls of our house, lay all of Baby Monkey's bedding.
The centerpiece of this garden is a small statue of the Blessed Virgin holding the infant Jesus in her arms. In the spring and summer, she is circled by ferns, hostas and bleeding heart plants that I've carefully tended for years. But as I looked toward the garden, I could see that Mother Mary was surrounded by a bright red comforter, a twin-sized feather bed, and various sheets, blankets and pillows. I had never seen her napping before, so this situation seemed a bit odd. It took me only a moment to realize that all of this belonged to Baby Monkey. I looked up to the second floor window above. Closed. But I knew someone had opened that window and flung all of the bedding into the garden below. I had a good idea who had done it, too.
I looked at Middle Monkey. He had a bit of a smile on his face. I asked him who rearranged my garden, and he indicated that the Princeling and the Baby Monkey had a fight earlier today. "So what else is new," I thought. It took only a minute or two to discover that Baby Monkey had started the fight by spraying Cheez Whiz into his eldest brother's shoes.
I called Baby Monkey to the back door and asked him to go outside to the garden. He saw his bedding lying there, but he seemed not at all surprised or angry. In fact, he laughed. He thought it was pretty funny. I told him he had to wash all of the bedding, and Baby Monkey was actually quite pleased since the back door to the basement was open, and all he had to do was carry the bedding a few steps to the laundry. In fact, he positively crowed about not having to carry everything down two flights of steps to the washing machine. This has me a bit concerned that he may be plotting to throw his dirty clothing out his bedroom window on wash days from now on.
I next went to the Princeling, who also freely admitted that he flung the bedding out the window. I asked him why, and I was told of the heinous Cheez Whiz attack. I was concerned about the expense of replacing a pair of Addidas tennis shoes and how many weeks of allowance-docking would account for the new shoes, but I thought maybe, just maybe, the shoes could be salvaged. The Monkey Prince has a very decided problem with foot odor, and his shoes generally stink to high heaven. I'm not so sure that Cheez Whiz could cause much damage to those shoes. In fact, there was a slight chance that the aroma of old Cheez Whiz would actually improve the shoes. But exactly how long had the Cheez Whiz been in the shoes, and how firmly had it solidified? These were questions that needed to be answered.
That's when I heard myself asking Baby Monkey, "How long ago did you put Cheez Whiz in your brother's shoes?" As I heard the words leaving my mouth, I realized how very ludicrious this all was. Cheez Whiz? Shoes? Laundry flinging? I just couldn't keep a straight face. I had been good about it up until that moment. In truth, I had wanted to laugh from the very moment I realized that the bedding had been flung out of the window. It was funny. I can't help it. But I needed to maintain discipline and control, and it's all in the attitude. It's all about how you look them in the eye. It's all about the children believing that I'm angry and that their lives will be unpleasant if I am angry with them.
But I just couldn't maintain it. I started to laugh. I started repeating the question over and over again. "How long ago did you put Cheez Whiz in your brother's shoes? How long ago did you put Cheez Whiz in your brother's shoes? How long ago did you put Cheez Whiz in your brother's shoes?" Each time I repeated the question, more laughter bubbled up and I was soon in hysterics. I managed to tell Baby Monkey that he had to clean the shoes, which he did. But none of us could keep a straight face about it.
Yes, discipline and control are important. But so is a sense of humor.