I laughed out loud when I saw the photo of my two-month-old grandson sporting a “New to the Shenanigans” bib.

It was a funny concept; almost like a clue to what’s coming. I don’t think anyone can raise a child without facing some “shenanigans” from them along the way. It’s a rite of passage.

We were certainly no exception. I still laugh thinking at our own indoctrination. Will had some friends over; they were thirteen years old. They had been hovering near me because they wanted a ride to their favorite store in Chicago, called American Science Supply. It was a strange store filled with used motor parts, switches, magnets, old street lights, mechanical devices, and more. This is the type of store that actually had the kitchen sink and its parts somewhere in Aisle 7. I wonder if it is still around. It’s been twenty years.

Will had previously visited the store with a friend and came home a proud owner of a de-magnifier card swipe device which he planned to take apart, and some yellow police tape with large block lettering: CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS.

When they asked me to take them, I had shooed them outside with a promise that I would later, so they disappeared for awhile. Later, we headed off down the highway. Upon arrival, they happily perused each box of weird stuff.

It was during the car ride home, when I heard snickering going on between them, that I knew something was up.

“Okay, what’s going on?” I asked. “Nothing” was the chorus of responses I received. Why in the world did I think I would get a straight answer?

Not satisfied, I had continued, “What did you guys buy that is making you laugh?”

And Will replied, “We didn’t buy anything bad, I promise. We just did something fun today–right, guys?” There was a fresh round of laughter.

“It’s no big deal, Mom, we just had fun at the park while we were waiting for you,” and the whole backseat shifts onto another topic.

About 24 hours later, my husband Dennis and I were walking the dog in our park just down the street. As we approached the park’s tennis courts, I had noticed something strange. We walked right up to the two courts. And there it was. There was yellow crime scene tape hung from one court fence to the other. And I knew.

This was what those boys had been up to yesterday when they were snickering together. But then, I walked inside one court and really lost it. They had made a chalk drawing of the outline of a body on the clay surface.

 Oh my God, I thought. I was laughing and worried at the same time. I would truly feel bad if they had scared someone. So far, I had heard nothing about it from other moms or the police.

And it is breaking the law by defacing public property. I was positive that this had never crossed the boys’ minds; it was meant as a joke.

Dennis and I headed home and sent Will over to remove the tape. I believe the chalk drawing dissipated in the rain that night. We discussed the consequences of seemingly harmless pranks. He agreed not to use it again on public property, and only on private property with permission.

Privately? Dennis and I laughed about it. The chalk outline was very funny. It was full-on shenanigans behavior. Honestly, it’s a great memory.

But ultimately, digging up some silly mischief is only one minute example of the many rites of passage and life lessons ahead for Will and his wife, Allison.

Some day, that months-old baby will become responsible for various chores; he will learn to read a book and ride a bike. He will learn how to handle peer pressure and try out for school activities. He will be responsible for a pet and learn to swim. And just like the bib, some photos will announce whatever that newest rite of passage is, like wearing a Cub Scout uniform or standing in front of a drum set. This is all life stuff; some of the best of life’s stuff. They are future treasured memories.

And now that I am “Goma”, I want to catch all of it; crime scene tape or not.

Crime tape photo by kat wilcox on Pexels.com