It is Monday. Sit-in -the-pediatrician’s-office-can’t-remember-when-I-washed-my-hair-last-didn’t-get-to-the-grocery-store-so-we-are-going-to-have-breakfast-for-dinner-MONDAY.
Because of the glorious weather we have been having lately, I have moved the girls’ kid sized table and chairs into our carport. They can sit beside their kittens and do homework and I can hear and see them from the kitchen and laundry room while I get dinner ready. (Or play Solitaire on my iPad. Ya know. Whichever. Ahem.)
Anywho, I hate putting up laundry. Actually, I hate putting up anything. Is there any feeling worse than walking into the kitchen to a sink full of dirty dishes, THINKING that you can open your empty dishwasher and throw all that crap in there, thus, giving you for all intents and purposes, a clean-ish kitchen– but instead– you open the dishwasher to find– GASP– Clean Dishes?? No, there is not.
SIGH! UGH. Blerg! (I just said those last two words OUT LOUD. Because, GAWD. It’s just so annoying.) So THEN you have to put up the dishes before you can get all your mess out of the sink. (Am I crazy? I hope I’m not the only one. I hate it so freaking much.)
At any rate, I was feeling That Way about my laundry room this afternoon. Because there is chit everywhere and it needed to be Put Up before I could move on and I was all NOOOOOOOOO!
My kids put up their own laundry. The oldest two do anyway, Sadie is too short to really be of any use as far as the laundry sitch goes and ironically, she is the only one willing to help. (Help– in Sadie Speak= putting panties on her head. So, yeah. Thanks, Boo.)
Emma (5yo) willingly put up her own laundry then I begged her to do Sadie’s.
Me: I’ll pay you. Cash. Please.
Emma: How much?
Me: How much do you want?
(I wish I could arch JUST ONE eyebrow because I would have done it right here.)
Emma: I don’t want to. I don’t think you have that much money anyway.
Emma went outside to visit with Aubrey who has been doing her homework for 18 hours. For. The. Love.
Whilst deciding that we would have breakfast for dinner, I overheard the girls outside.
Emma: Pretend I homeschool and I did all your work.
Aubrey: I’m the Momma.
Sadie: Momma! Momma! Momma! Momma! Momma!
Sadie: Um… I love you Momma. I’m going to school now
Emma: Pretend I knew ALL THE ANSWERS to your homework.
Sadie: Momma! MOMMA! MOMMA! MOMMA! MOMMA!
Sadie: Um… I’m back from school.
Aubrey: Fine. Ok honey, put your stuff up.
(I have no idea what Sadie actually did.)
Aubrey: I SAID! PUT YOUR FREAKING STUFF UP!
(Errrr. Sounds familiar.)
Sadie: Momma! MOMMA! MOMMA! MOMMA! MOMMA!~
Aubrey: I don’t want to be the momma anymore.
A-to-the-men Sistah Child.
How’s your Monday?