Boys and sticks

We are overrun with squirrels in our neighborhood.  Not your average squirrels. These squirrels are fearless: they chew on our outdoor decorations; dance on the deck; play with the kids toys outside.  They climb up on the window sills, knock on the window and mock us.  The squirrels are taking over the neighborhood, the little thugs.  So I decided to turn by boys out on them.  Strike a bit of fear in those little squirrel hearts.  I told the boys to go outside get some sticks and yell and wave those sticks at every squirrel they saw.

They were supposed to be scaring off the crazy squirrels with sticks and noise.  They were supposed to not use the sticks as weapons.  I guess if you give a boy a stick, well, they're going to be a boy with a stick.

 

This is an unfair fight.  I mean, really, look at that tiny little stick versus big brother's branch of a stick.  

Maybe I should step in... or maybe not

It's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt. Or loses their stick.

 (He's calling his big brother "bad baby" here.  Big brother hates it when he calls him that.  I don't know where he learned to say 'bad baby'.  I swear.)

He wasn't hurt; well maybe his pride was.  I think his daddy just needs to teach him the 'speak softly and carry a large stick' rule (I would definitely appreciate the speak softly part).