When the hurricane hit my house

Just when it seems like there is finally a calm in my house, another storm seems to hit.

This time the storm hit in a different way.

Unlike other storms, this one was caused by my two, sweet, innocent and beautiful children, Matthew, 7, and John, 4.

It happened on a weekend. My husband had gone to the store to pick up a few groceries and I needed a short bathroom break.

I was only in the bathroom for about two minutes, but when I reappeared, the living room was trashed. Magazines, books, toys, blankets and shoes were scattered around the floor.

I didn’t have to wonder what happened for too long because right in the center of it all were my two sons twirling around with their arms spread out shouting “Hurricane Matthew, Hurricane Matthew.”

I said, “How can you kids do so much damage in only a couple of minutes?”

John said, “Hi Mom, It’s a new game called ‘Hurricane Matthew.”’

They were so excited about their new game, I didn’t want to hurt their feelings. That’s a good name for their new game I thought as I looked around at what I considered destruction.

I asked again, “How can you guys make such a mess. I was only gone for a couple minutes?”

Matthew and John replied, “Because we’re a hurricane mom. And hurricanes destroy things.”

I said, “Well don’t you know that after a real hurricane people have to clean up?”

They looked at each other. I said after a real hurricane it takes people weeks, months and sometimes years to replace things that were destroyed or damaged in the storm.

We slowly started cleaning up the mess, as they told me about hurricanes and I told them about the cleaning process. I also told them about how there was an actual hurricane named Matthew that hit the United States southeastern coastal areas last year.

After we worked together to clean up the mess, I was about to sit on the couch, when the boys informed me we weren’t done picking up yet.

I said, “What do you mean? We just picked up the living room.”

John said, “Well, hurricane Matthew hit the whole house.”

I followed the boys who were running and laughing down the hallway to their bedrooms to see what they thought was so funny.

Once again, I came face-to-face with destruction. The boys had emptied out their dressers, taken the blankets off of their beds, tossed shoes and books around the room. It was a sight for sure.

Boy was I mad, but I had the boys help me pick everything up. The whole time I explained to them that although their new game seemed fun, I didn’t appreciate them making a big mess. I think they realized it wasn’t as much fun picking everything up as it was making a mess out of it.

Since then, I keep wondering and waiting when the next hurricane will strike. I have also resolved to ban the weather channel from the children for a while, since I suspect that’s where they got the idea from.