What I’ve long suspected is now confirmed. My children do not appreciate me.
Alex crawled into my lap earlier this week. This doesn’t happen often with a seven year old boy. Second grade ushered in a firm “NO HUGS and CERTAINLY NO KISSES” rule at the bus stop. So I took the opportunity to tell him I realize the days of him liking to hang out with his mother are quickly approaching.
Alex looked me straight in the eye and said, “Oh gosh Mom, I’ll always want you around. I need you!”
I said, “Oh that’s nice to hear. What do you need me for? I’m curious.”
Alex said, “Well, I don’t think I’ll ever learn to tie my shoes. I need you to cook, because I don’t have time, and I definitely need you to do my laundry.” This would be a good time to mention he chucked a shirt at me a few weeks ago and said, “Here, Washer Woman.” His dad laughed.
Meredith isn’t any better.
Merdi’s room is slightly less organized than Billy Bumgartner’s car. I asked her to pick up her things this week and put all her laundry in the basket in her closet. 20 minutes later she trotted downstairs to tell me what a good listener she was and asked me to make note of how helpful she is becoming.
Meredith’s room was, to her credit clean…ish. Of course when I opened the closet I knew exactly where the mess went. Today as I was sorting through the laundry it became even more obvious that my kids think I’m an idiot.
Allow me to inventory what I found in Meredith’s laundry basket(s):
1.) No fewer than four pair of winter tights.
2.) A ballet skirt and leotard that hasn’t been worn since early June.
3.) Two puppets: a duck and an alligator, which could have been catastrophic.
4.) The liner from her brother’s laundry hamper.
5.) A calculator. She is unable count to 20 without leaving out 13 and 17, so this makes sense.
6.) A fake drop cloth with pretend paint splatters that belongs to her brother’s Home Depot paint kit.
7.) And for the finale…Gary Chapman’s best selling “The Five Love Languages, How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to Your Mate.”
In no way am I surprised. I don’t really give the kids any reason to believe I’m more than a maid, and a lousy one at that. The thing of it is, I don’t even care. Their expectations are quite low, they don’t decide whether or not I’ll be promoted or receive a bonus, and I can’t be downsized. They’d never survive without me. Not a bad gig!
Alex crawled into my lap earlier this week. This doesn’t happen often with a seven year old boy. Second grade ushered in a firm “NO HUGS and CERTAINLY NO KISSES” rule at the bus stop. So I took the opportunity to tell him I realize the days of him liking to hang out with his mother are quickly approaching.
Alex looked me straight in the eye and said, “Oh gosh Mom, I’ll always want you around. I need you!”
I said, “Oh that’s nice to hear. What do you need me for? I’m curious.”
Alex said, “Well, I don’t think I’ll ever learn to tie my shoes. I need you to cook, because I don’t have time, and I definitely need you to do my laundry.” This would be a good time to mention he chucked a shirt at me a few weeks ago and said, “Here, Washer Woman.” His dad laughed.
Meredith isn’t any better.
Merdi’s room is slightly less organized than Billy Bumgartner’s car. I asked her to pick up her things this week and put all her laundry in the basket in her closet. 20 minutes later she trotted downstairs to tell me what a good listener she was and asked me to make note of how helpful she is becoming.
Meredith’s room was, to her credit clean…ish. Of course when I opened the closet I knew exactly where the mess went. Today as I was sorting through the laundry it became even more obvious that my kids think I’m an idiot.
Allow me to inventory what I found in Meredith’s laundry basket(s):
1.) No fewer than four pair of winter tights.
2.) A ballet skirt and leotard that hasn’t been worn since early June.
3.) Two puppets: a duck and an alligator, which could have been catastrophic.
4.) The liner from her brother’s laundry hamper.
5.) A calculator. She is unable count to 20 without leaving out 13 and 17, so this makes sense.
6.) A fake drop cloth with pretend paint splatters that belongs to her brother’s Home Depot paint kit.
7.) And for the finale…Gary Chapman’s best selling “The Five Love Languages, How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to Your Mate.”
In no way am I surprised. I don’t really give the kids any reason to believe I’m more than a maid, and a lousy one at that. The thing of it is, I don’t even care. Their expectations are quite low, they don’t decide whether or not I’ll be promoted or receive a bonus, and I can’t be downsized. They’d never survive without me. Not a bad gig!
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