Sam is feeling a little under the weather today. He wanted some tea, but one of the great things about having bigger kids is that they can get their own dang tea.
Except . . .
"Mom? Where is the tea?"
"It's in the little cupboard right next to the fridge."
*five minutes later*
"Mom? It's not there."
I am 5000 percent sure that the tea is in the little cupboard right next the fridge. I know it is there because I put it there because of course I put it there because it has never occurred to anybody else in this house to put anything away ever. I am so sure that it is in the tiny cupboard next to the fridge that if someone offered me a bet wherein if I am right, and it is in the tiny cupboard next to the fridge I get a dollar, and if I am wrong the whole world just explodes, I would take that bet.
"Sam, go look again. Look at the fridge. Look in every smallish cupboard that is in any proximity to the fridge. I promise you, the tea is in there."
*five minutes later*
"Mom? It's really not there."
SURPRISE TWIST ENDING!
It was in the tiny cupboard next to the fridge.
"Oh, THAT little cupboard!" he says.
Yes, the one right next to the fridge.
What I need you to understand about this cupboard, though, is that it is both small, and COMPLETELY (other than tea) EMPTY. There is LITERALLY nothing else in the entire tiny cupboard. It is a stupid tiny cupboard, nothing fits. That's why I was happy about the tea. Now it's a classy tea cupboard. It has a purpose. But the point is that it's truly not as if I found the tea pushed behind an old box of crackers or something. All I did was open the door.
Monday, October 10, 2016
Sunday, October 9, 2016
Garbage
Last week the grocery store had a sale on reduced sugar granola bars and yogurt tubes. So I bought them. I took the time to go to the grocery store, search for coupons, compare prices, bring the groceries into the house and put them away and you know what? I don't even like granola bars or yogurt tubes, personally.
Which is super weird because I keep seeing granola bar wrappers and empty yogurt tubes lying around. Seeing as how I live exclusively with people who are capable of throwing things away, the only logical explanation is that I am eating them, passing out, hitting my head, getting amnesia and then seeing the wrappers. Right? I mean, it makes no sense that people who have the skills and fortitude to go find these snacks in the cupboard or fridge, scale the counter tops to reach them, unwrap and then eat the snacks would then conclude that mission by throwing their goddamn wrappers on the goddamn ground. NO SENSE AT ALL.
A few polite reminders were met with blank stares. More emphatic statements to PICK UP YOUR GARBAGE I AM NOT YOUR MAID were greeted with choruses that, golly gee, that wrapper surely did belong to Not Me. Directives to pick up the wrappers, irrespective of who placed them there, were outrageous miscarriages of justice. It is not FAIR, not fair at all, to have to pick up a wrapper that was dropped by someone else. Funnily, I AGREE.
I was just sitting next to Owen, and noticed that he was eating a granola bar. "Do NOT drop that wrapper on the floor Owen."
"Okay, Mom, that was all I needed to remind me!"
"Your cheerful attitude notwithstanding, Owen, you should not need a reminder. There is no excuse for ever just dropping your garbage on the floor."
"Not even in a fire? If there is a fire, should I make sure I put this garbage in the trash before I escape?"
I will note that his tone is playful rather than obnoxious, but I still want to wallop him. I am less amused with the garbage struggle around here than he is.
But I'm not a mean mom, so I banter.
"Have we been having a lot of fires around here? Is that why there is always garbage on the ground? An out of control number of fires that are causing you all to run for your lives?"
"Hahahaha, yeah, mom, that's it! Hahahah."
But seriously. Pick up your garbage.
Which is super weird because I keep seeing granola bar wrappers and empty yogurt tubes lying around. Seeing as how I live exclusively with people who are capable of throwing things away, the only logical explanation is that I am eating them, passing out, hitting my head, getting amnesia and then seeing the wrappers. Right? I mean, it makes no sense that people who have the skills and fortitude to go find these snacks in the cupboard or fridge, scale the counter tops to reach them, unwrap and then eat the snacks would then conclude that mission by throwing their goddamn wrappers on the goddamn ground. NO SENSE AT ALL.
A few polite reminders were met with blank stares. More emphatic statements to PICK UP YOUR GARBAGE I AM NOT YOUR MAID were greeted with choruses that, golly gee, that wrapper surely did belong to Not Me. Directives to pick up the wrappers, irrespective of who placed them there, were outrageous miscarriages of justice. It is not FAIR, not fair at all, to have to pick up a wrapper that was dropped by someone else. Funnily, I AGREE.
I was just sitting next to Owen, and noticed that he was eating a granola bar. "Do NOT drop that wrapper on the floor Owen."
"Okay, Mom, that was all I needed to remind me!"
"Your cheerful attitude notwithstanding, Owen, you should not need a reminder. There is no excuse for ever just dropping your garbage on the floor."
"Not even in a fire? If there is a fire, should I make sure I put this garbage in the trash before I escape?"
I will note that his tone is playful rather than obnoxious, but I still want to wallop him. I am less amused with the garbage struggle around here than he is.
But I'm not a mean mom, so I banter.
"Have we been having a lot of fires around here? Is that why there is always garbage on the ground? An out of control number of fires that are causing you all to run for your lives?"
"Hahahaha, yeah, mom, that's it! Hahahah."
But seriously. Pick up your garbage.
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