Unwanted Echoes

Sometimes the things we say as parents come back to haunt us through the mouths of our children.  Okay, I take that back… OFTEN times, the things we say as parents come back to haunt us through the mouths of our children.  There.  That’s more honest.

My children do have chores that are assigned on a weekly basis (I know, I’m soooooo mean).  However, they are also expected to do certain things around the house that I do no consider to be chores.  Let’s see… for starters, flush the toilet.  And if you use a whole roll of toilet paper and have tried to flush it too many times, for God’s sake, COME TELL ME!   I hate discovering these little things on my own.  At night, put away your clothes, dirty or clean, in their appropriate places, as well as put away all toys.  If I serve you food as you wait impatiently for it at the table, the least thing you can do is take your plate over when you’re done complaining, I mean eating it.  Rinsing it and putting it in the dishwasher would be nice, too, but I won’t push it.  When you step on the same piece of trash in the kitchen five times in a few minutes, seriously??  You can’t pick it up?!

So… when I have to remind my kids of little things like these, I have been known to use the phrase, “I am NOT your maid… come take over your plate!”  And by the way, we do not have a housekeeper, and even if we did, they would still not be permitted to be slobs.

Last night we were going through the bedtime ritual.  The two and four-year old were bathed with their teeth brushed.  Next step, pick up the toys.  Believe me, critics of my evil parenting ways, this is more of a chore for me then it is for the kids.  They whine about it EVERY NIGHT and it takes forever to get done.  It would be much easier if I just put their toys away for them in the 5 seconds it would take me, then to teach them to do it and sit there as they complain through it for 15 minutes.  But as I have said before, I must be a masochist.

The two-year old finished up first (his is always an epic disaster because he dumps out EVERYTHING).  On to the four-year old’s room.  Now, she maybe had two teddy bears and a bunny on the floor so we’re talking a HUGE clean up job, right?  So I asked her to put them away.  She let out a very loud sigh, managed to flip her hair back in a manner fit for a teenage cheerleader, and said,

“Ugh!  I’m not the maid, okay?!”

I was not amused.  I was too busy grinding my teeth.

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