Friday, April 8, 2011


 I remember being a lazy messy kid.....(My family is thinking UNDERSTATEMENT!) But my youngest son takes it to a whole new level. Cleaning his room is a three day process. Day one is spent listening to him swear its done, its done mom, I promise its done, really its done. Knowing full well he was in there for a max time of three minutes, I send him back in. I hear the snapping sound of Legos and the loading of Nerf guns. After "cleaning" for a few minutes again he’s in my face "I’m done Mom". So to humor him I take a 10 seconds I point out all the surface imperfections of his room "Okay I got it!" Shortly after here he comes again. I look at the surface, its mediocre at best but at least there was a little effort. This is where the fun begins I notice his little area rug is "floating" Its only 2'x4' but he managed to fit half his room under it. I start to look a little deeper and find some very interesting things. Obviously dirty clothes are carefully folded and placed in drawers. Clean clothes are placed in the hamper, even some that are still folded. With a large closet I organize his extra sheets, and sports gear in bins. Wadding up clothes and climbing the shelves so he can work the bin open stuff them in and then close the latch sounds so much easier than just doing a freethrow into the hamper.
Day two is my whatever day. I don’t care what you do but your not coming out until its done. And I don’t want to hear "It’s done!" Every time I hear that and its not true I'm taking a toy and throwing it away. This day is spent walking past his room and just shaking my head in frustration.
Day three is the breaking point. This is the point where I rip out half my hair and start to twitch a little. I go on a rampage pulling the crap out of every nook and cranny and throw it into a huge pile in the middle of his room. At this point he’s crying over the amount of shit he has to clean up. And again I have to explain that this isn’t just me being mean it’s his own fault for not taking care of it in the first place and I didn’t blah blah yadda yadda read "language barriers". After several hours he emerges from his room with flushed cheeks and a slightly broken spirit but the room is finally done. I check it and its up to code.......until next week. Uhhhgg.
Because of my sons amazing abilities I have found myself loathing certain holidays like Valentines Day and anything with packaged toys that have to be opened. Do you know how my many places a kid can find to hide wrappers? They have been piled under my recliner chair, the crock pot I keep my change in, and crammed in his crayon box. In my sons room there’s a short stool for his desk its shaped like a barrel and the bottom has a small lip on it. The lip creates a small area that’s hollow but my son can fit a weeks worth of laundry, or his weight in matchbox cars under it. One time I found a bunch of his socks in the garbage. Apparently it's to much effort to put them into the dirty clothes that sits two feet from the garbage can! His laziness is a talent really, he puts more effort into being lazy that what it would take to just do the job right the first time.  If it could be an occupation he would master it and be rich.
I hope someday he will become the neat freak I want him to be but that surely won’t be happening while he lives under my roof, (if ever) so till then I’ll wear a wig.

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