By DARREN HANDSCHUH
What's one more? Or two? Or even five?
A lot of noise and stress that's what.
The ever-increasing number refers to the extra kids that invaded my home for spring break.
Two of the scalawags used to live here, moved to The Coast last fall and came back for a visit. No point in just stopping by over night, so these fine young lads stayed for a week.
A whole freaking week. I mean, oh joy and blessings, a whole week.
And because those two stayed, three other friends of my son decided they had best hang around as well, so they too were in my basement for a whole week. A whole freaking week. I mean oh joy...
In case you lost count that is at least six teenage boys staying at my humble abode for the first week of spring break, and only one of them is mine.
Thank God for work. It is nice to come to the office and shed the stress of being at home. It is also so much quieter at my work desk. Mind you a heavy metal concert would likely be quieter than my home is.
They are good boys every one of them. They are not into drugs or booze or any debauchery worth mentioning, but teenage boys are loud. When you get that many together ñ one evening I had eight of them in the basement because a couple more popped in to say hi ñ they are going to be loud. It is as simple as that.
Making all that noise must burn up a lot of energy because they eat more than the Moldavian navy.
Dinosaurs did not eat as much as this crew. I bet that's what really happened to the dinosaurs. It wasn't a meteorite or any other natural cataclysm that eradicated the humongous beasts from the earth.
Nope, it was a herd of Neanderthal teens in a feeding frenzy.
And all those dino bones the scientists keep finding were where their Neanderthal moms told them to clean their plates.
But back to the chaos that is my home. Why, you may be asking, have I opened my doors to such an invasion?
Simple: the boys are having a great time, the ones who moved away are thrilled to be back in town for a whole (freaking) week, and besides, my wife made me.
That last one carried a lot of weight.
OK, I'll admit it is kind of cool to have them all at my home and I enjoy the energy they brought into our lives (my wife made me say that).
But like I said, they are good kids, or they are good at not getting caught. Either way, at the end of the day it is pretty much the same thing. As long as the police do not show up at my door, it's all good.
My oldest boy was smart and he bailed for the week. He called in a few favours from friends to stay at their house and when that ran out, it was Grandma to the rescue with a hot supper and a spare bed.
But for those of us who cannot run and hide, we must face the hungry hoard of hooligans head on ñ usually with a food offering in hand.
Was it stressful having all those hyper, loud, active teenage boys ripping around my house for a whole freaking week? You better believe it.
Was it worth the expense, the loss of so many farm animals who gave their lives upon my barbecue so we might live and the lack of sleep just to provide these kids with some good memories they will talk about for years to come? You better believe it.