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My Kids Will Never Resort to Cannibalism: Lessons from the First 10 Days of Summer
It’s oddly comforting to realize that my kids won’t be turning me into dinner anytime soon. This was one of the first insights I gained during that wild, chaotic stretch known as the “First 10 Days of Summer Vacation.” After the structured routine of school and activities suddenly came to a halt, we were thrust into a world of pajama days and zero schedules—until the reality of summer hit us hard.
Just four days in, and rain had been pouring nonstop for three of those days. With all outdoor plans washed away, we found ourselves stuck inside, desperately brainstorming ways to keep entertained. As I lounged on the couch with a book, I noticed an unsettling silence. I looked up to see my boys staring at me with an intensity reminiscent of Hannibal Lecter. Or perhaps it was just the aftereffects of too much screen time—who knows what science has to say on that?
With our favorite snacks depleted (you know, cookies and chips), we were down to the mundane stuff like fruit and cheese sticks. I couldn’t shake the feeling that they might be eyeing my flesh as a solution to their boredom. All the elements for a cannibalistic uprising were present: isolation, hunger, and a touch of cartoon-induced insanity.
As I contemplated a plan to ensure my survival without involving Child Services, a wave of clarity washed over me. Teamwork! Successful cannibalism requires coordination, and I realized my boys would argue endlessly before managing to take me down. I was safe!
While I was relieved that “Mother Cannibalized by Offspring” wouldn’t be the headline of my demise, I couldn’t ignore the very real threat of “Slow Death by Whining.” The combination of relentless rain, no school, and limited snack options led to a chorus of complaints that threatened my sanity. My usual responses, like “Please use your regular voice,” were meeting with abysmal success.
In a moment of desperation, I even attempted to be humorous by suggesting they call “1-900-Whines-a-Lot,” but they just whined louder about wanting to play games on my phone. I briefly entertained the idea of using a Pavlovian approach—like spritzing them with water every time they complained—but I quickly realized they would probably love that and just whine more.
In addition to my ineffective strategies for countering whining, I learned that my threats were, let’s say, not very threatening. For example, when my 7-year-old couldn’t be bothered to find his swimsuit, I said, “If I find it first, you’ll clean the toilets!” To my surprise, he thought that sounded fun and begged me to locate his swim gear.
After enduring the same two lines of his brother’s off-key rendition of “Bad Blood” for what felt like an eternity, I threatened, “If you sing that again, I’ll put a marshmallow in your mouth!” Clearly, I need to work on my threats; I just offered him a treat instead.
The long-term effects of surviving the First 10 Days of Summer are yet to be seen, but I know from experience that we will emerge triumphant. By day 11 or 12, the clouds will part, and we’ll find ourselves enjoying pool days, camps, and visits to grandparents. The whining will become a distant memory as we gear up for s’mores and outdoor adventures.
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In summary, those first chaotic days of summer taught me a lot about survival and creativity. While the whining and boredom can be relentless, the arrival of sunny days and fun activities is just around the corner.