Yes, I am referring to the little boys that live in my house whom I often refer to kindly as sons, but once in a great while they act more like little hyenas--up to no good and always giggling about it.
Today, after being exiled to the yard, (and yes, I did use that exact word as I banished them outdoors) I went to check on them. They were in the garage. Besides the fact that there were cheetos all over the garage floor, which wasn't really a huge deal because they are easy to clean up, there wasn't really anything that seemed suspicious until I tried to close the garage door and it just wouldn't budge even after pressing the button several times.
Roman then explained that as the door was going up he had used it as a sort of a ride and then somehow it just stopped working.
Well, I hope Roman enjoyed his day in exile because it just may be his last. Which poses the question, is nowhere safe for young lads of, say, four and two-almost-three? I think not.
I now know why there is a foreboding phrase of "oh boy" and not "oh girl".