Warm Cookies With A Whiskey Chaser

The Perfect Mix of Comfort and Shenanigans

Blogroll Me!
100 Things About Me
Tinmen Don't Dance
Humble Sandwich
A Son from Another Mother; Matt
Auburn Pisces
Splenda In The Grass
the bokey chronicles
Jeffrey Ricker
Rocket Man
The Beauty of All Things
No Milk Please
A Life In The Day
Shadow Footprints
Scott B Blog
Seth Hancock Photography
Famous Author Rob Byrnes
Watersea's Ocean Bloggie
Cheap Blue Guitar
Does This Mean I'm A Grownup?
Upside Down Hippo
Loose Ends

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Apparantly, I Suck

It's Tuesday. Thank God they've gone back to school. Three solid days of feeling completely inept in Teenager World and no way to vent. Apparantly, I am the worst, most horrible mother in the world. Why? Well, I make them clean their rooms. Hey, when I open the kitchen cupboard and I can't find a glass to pour some juice into, then I know the glassware is hidden in the catacombs of their sleeping spaces. Is it too much to ask to clean out your room once a month or so so that I can have a glass of juice in the morning? I guess so.

Oh yeah. And then on Sunday, I asked if they would clean the bathroom. You see, people might stop by and God forbid, they might have to relieve themselves. You already know there's no toilet paper in there, so I thought that since they were going to have to bring in the t.p., they might could clean that disease pit called a bathroom. At this point, its a matter closely akin to what the Center for Disease Control might consider life threatening. I won't let the dog go in there right now. Yes, I care for my dog and my fellow man. But I suck as a mother.

Monday comes and my world caves in. I ask the worst thing I can possibly ask. The reaction from my man cub child is a look of complete horror. Go ahead, take a shot at guessing what could possibly end my son's picture perfect life of leisure. Take out the trash? Nawww. Mow the lawn? Oh heaven's, please. Get a haircut? Child's play, really. The expression on his face would lead those from the outside world to believe that I asked him to cut off his right hand. From the length of his showers and the look of our water bill these days, we KNOW he needs his right hand. But did I ask for that? So what horrific act did I ask him to perform?

Thank you notes.

I asked the kid to write thank you notes for some of his Christmas gifts. I'm not kidding you, he nearly hyperventolated. In between tears, he told me that I was crazy. I'm a crazy woman because I want him to tell the people who were kind to him this Christmas that he appreciates them. I should be locked up. I shouldn't be allowed to be around kids. I might teach them manners. God help them.

I am a monster.


Post a Comment

<< Home