To continue the story... I was always afraid that their fingers would be caught in the door jams and actually that did happen one time. My daughter's thumb was caught in the door and it became black and blue, but that was in California and isn't part of this story.
So anyway, my kids were running around locking themselves into a room while the other chased furiously after him and banging on the doors. Bedlam! What madness! How long could they keep this up for? Then suddenly nothing...
And you know what that means. I rushed out of my room picturing my worst fears. Pictures of my kids lying on the floor surrounded by pools of blood, arms and legs tangled broken at the bottom of the staircase, eyes poked out after running with scissors, all a parent's nightmare, but it was not to be...
Instead I found them sitting quietly with hangdog looks, refusing to meet my eye. Something was broken. By them. Knowing what they were doing, it wasn't hard to find what was wrong. I sighed heavily and told them "I'm going to make the punishment fit the crime."
I took out the torture instruments I found on a trip to China and unrolled them on the table. They clasped each other and begged for mercy, but there would be no escape this time...
I've got to take a break here folks. I'm absolutely famished and need to take a food break.