About Last Week: Parenting Recap

Hey guys! Today I thought I’d let you into the wonderful and often weird world I live in. It’s usually fairly boring, but it has moments. Anyway, let me tell you a bit about last week.

Monday

The morning is hectic as usual. The Boy can’t find his pants, his shoes, forgets he needs to wear a uniform to school and has to come back inside for his house key. I swear every Monday, this kid acts brand new to this.

The evening was a little somber as The Boy finished cleaning out Sobek’s habitat (RIP little dragon) and put it up until he’s ready to be a bearded dragon dad once again.

The Boy came in to give hugs goodnight and reached out to hug a sleeping Otto. I’ve discussed Otto’s neuroses in a previous post and one of them is really not liking being woken up. Otto let out a startled growl and that set off some feelings

Boy: YOU MURDERED SOBEK! YOU OWE ME A HUG!

Forgiveness is a process, folks.

Anxiety Level: 5/10

Tuesday

Came home to a sink full of dishes. How?! When we both left for the day, that sink had one spoon in it. The Boy was home alone for maybe an hour and a half. How in the f**** did he manage to fill the entire sink with cups and dishes but only have had water, cheese sticks and crackers for a snack. HOW?!

Me: You need to do all those dishes.

Boy: I know. I will

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH

Anxiety Level: 10/10

Wednesday

Guess what? The dishes have not been done. Shocking. The Boy had the audacity to request a specific dinner: baked chicken and mashed potatoes. The chicken was more of a side dish to the mashed potatoes than vice versa, but whatever.

Me: Do the dishes and I’ll make dinner.

Boy: Deal

*After School* Me: Don’t forget the dishes.

Boy: I won’t.

Guess who got home to the same sink full of dishes? ME!

Blah, blah, blah – typical after school/work chatter.

Me: Don’t forget about those dishes.

Boy: I know. I dirtied them, so I have to clean them.

About Last Week
too tired to yell…

Narrator: He in fact did NOT wash the dishes.

I quit.

He made himself a ham sandwich.

Anxiety Level: 47/10

Thursday

I had to bake a cake for a colleague’s birthday and make the executive decision it would be pizza night because I did not want to stay up late cooking/cleaning/baking/cleaning.

Me: I’m baking for [coworker] and picking up a pizza.

Boy: Yay!

Me: Not so fast. If those dishes are still in the sink when I get home, you’re going to watch me eat pizza while you eat another ham sandwich. If that sink is finally empty, then we’ll have pizza night together.

About Last Week
I won

Boy: UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH

In the end, I WON.

Anxiety Level: 45/10

Friday

I woke up to Otto lying down like a hairy human with his head on my pillow. Sometime during the night, Lola had rounded up all the dirty socks out of the laundry basket and was snuggling them in her dog bed.  Typical morning stuff.

The Boy not so subtly reminds me that I have costume making to do: You can bring home more pizza to give you time to work on my costume. 

Gee thanks, kid.

Fridays used to mean something other than more work. Didn’t they?

Anxiety Level: Off the charts

BOOM

 

 

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