12 Sep The temptations of childhood are many!

Martha Wegner gives into the contemplation of temptation.

“Mum, I have something to show you.” Grim words spoken with a sombre expression. A slight look of panic around the eyes nearly gives him away. My son has something to show me all right, and it isn’t necessarily his latest Lego project. In case I have any doubts, I take one look at his playmate, Caroline, standing ramrod straight, arms at her side, eyes nearly twice their normal size.

As we’re traipsing upstairs, David warns me, “It was an accident, Mum”. Well, at least it was an accident. No need for remorse or punishment.

He walks me to the wardrobe. There on the floor is a pile of my clothes. The clothes that five minutes ago were hanging on the metal rod. That same metal rod, which is now bent nearly perfectly in half. It seems that my son was accidentally swinging on the rod, and it accidentally bent in half, accidentally spewing my clothes all over the floor.

I am speechless, taking the time to assess the situation and gauge what should be the proper parental response to this crime. I think his friend might be holding her breath. David half smiles half furrows his brow. I’m not sure which way mum is going to move on this. He is prepared. If she decides to get angry, he’s got the serious look forming. If, by some miraculous act of the gods, she laughs, well, he is ready to join right in.

As it turns out, the smile is the weapon of choice. I can’t help but smile. Because I can see it. I can see my son swinging from the bar. I can see it crashing. I can hear the game plan forming as he and his friend decide what they are going to do next.

The temptations of childhood are many. Metal bars beg us to hang, buttons beg to be pushed, cords are there to be tugged, and icky things are there to be picked up, eaten or stepped on. The sirens call out to young ears, and the only way kids can resist is if their parents tie them down or keep them busy doing chores or homework. The best a kid can hope for is that the crime be classified as ‘accidental’ so that the retribution is minimal.

Somewhere along the line, we learn to resist, mostly. And it’s a good thing, too. Can you imagine the number of curtain rods, fire extinguishers and table lamps we’d have to buy each year if we hadn’t somehow managed to get ourselves under control?

Today, as I was flinging clothes from the floor onto the bed, I told my husband that I understood David’s temptation to swing on the wardrobe pole. When I was a kid, I tried hanging on the chandelier in our family room. Down it came with a crash, with me attached. My husband was open-mouthed and speechless at the thought of his wife swinging from the ceiling.

I guess we all have skeletons in our closets. Closets filled with fallen chandeliers, bent curtain rods and anything else that tempted us from the path of goodness. And all we can do is smile and hope it can be declared an accident.