On Valentine's Day, he, Tom and Pop decided at the last minute to drive to Mobile to meet me and watch the final game of the Southern Shootout Soccer Tournament. Tom allowed Foster to bring a guest - his friend with whom he has gotten in deep trouble on more than one occasion.
It was pouring rain in Mobile and Foster and his friend were bored. They were banging the metal bleachers, walking in front of all the spectators and generally being a nuisance. They found a playground and asked me if they might go over there and play. PLEASE DO, I told them.
Foster comes back looking like this:

After cleaning blood, applying ice and with a lot of quizzing, we learn that he was jumping from the "bar" to the "wall" and the rain made him fall. His head "went sliding on the concrete and smashed the wall with a wicked crash." "Am I gonna have a Black Eye? Cool." "Mom - it was the RAIN, it wasn't ME."
If that's not enough excitement for one day - we get MORE. Around mid-night we get home from the Mobile tournament. We methodically go from car, to bathroom, to bed like overly tired zombies. On a normal night when we have sleepover company I sleep on the very uncomfortable day bed in the sun room so that I can monitor the goings on of mischievous twelve year olds. On this night I assume everyone is going to bed, dead tired after all the excitement and four hours of driving.
Yeah Right! Around 8:30 a.m. or so we are awakened by banging on our door and Trey screaming -- THE TREE HOUSE IS ON FIRE.
I look out the sliding glass door in our bedroom into the back yard and see 25-30 foot flames shooting straight up the tree and the tree house is totally engulfed in flames.
Every single nerve in my body seizes . . . . "WHERE'S FOSTER AND J___?" I screamed that gut terror scream with tears flowing and my body shaking uncontrollably. I flashed back to 1970 when I watched my home go up in flames with my brother inside. The smell, the crackling sound and heat were all the same. I fell apart.
Pop grabs me and says - THEY ARE IN THE BED ASLEEP, Missy. Everything is going to be OK.
They were in the bed asleep - then WHO? It had to be deliberate because nothing else was on fire.
I call 911 and they tell me to stay on the line because I am the homeowner and I can see the fire, even though they have already gotten many calls. I tell the dispatcher - "It HAD to be set, WHO the hell would do such a thing?" Tom, who is on the other line, walks into the room and quietly whispers to me - please don't say anything else. My next thought is "Oh Shit, you've GOT to be kidding me."
Two fire trucks show up, three police, the fire chief and the police chief. When I see Foster he is crying and saying, "we didn't mean to set it on fire - we were just lighting leaves and stuff. "
They failed to completely extinguish the leaves and other "stuff" that they snuck out at 3 a.m. to light with a candle lighter INSIDE the tree house. The stuff smoldered for five hours until it turned into a tree house inferno.
Foster is on total and complete lock down restrictions until further notice. We took away his cell phone, computer, television, "thug" clothing and he has a long long way to earn our trust again.
BCP p.829, For the Care of Children