Not sure how many of you were aware...and honestly I wasn't even aware until today that my children...YES my precious little Emma and Aidan have a future in working for our government. NOW, I'll attempt to eliminate political controversy by not going into my feelings about my children working for the corrupt government or how I would feel very disappointed that their moral compass was not set straight enough in their upbringing to take them to the point of such employment.
Anywhos… What job might they hold you ask? Based on today's behavior they are in line & all ready equipped with skills to be government operatives. Like CIA, FBI, those folks that have the inside information and missions that no one is supposed to know about. When Bush was needing proof of weapons of mass destruction…all he needed was my children. They can sniff out stuff that they’re not supposed to. They can scope out, seek, find and destroy anything you hope and pray they will avoid. They’re like specialty trained drug dogs, seizure dogs, earthquake dogs, whatever. They have an innate ability to smell out anything with a whiff of Lysol, lemon or Clorox clean and then cover that fresh clean scent with snack residue, urine or any other “non-clean” substance. Negotiating is another skill they possess. They might also be good to work with leaders of other stubborn countries. In their united effort they can make the strongest parent leader contemplate surrender.
Today perhaps could have been a conspiracy between Aidan and Emma, as Aidan was home throughout the day to witness my works…hmm. Ah, yes focus…in an attempt to perhaps look productive after basically a month of doing much of nothing I decided to appear the task master I once considered myself. What grand plans did I have to accomplish that today? Hold on to your seat! I used Clorox wipes to scour the filth in from my hall bath AND picked up the boy’s room clearing off the changing table, putting away some clean clothes and even making Aidan’s bed. Simply tiding up. Wow! You’re impressed aren’t you!?!? Well that was all looking good and in place to begin the “impress Matt with my ambitious Martha Stewart abilities” mission UNTIL my precious angels from God united forces to conspire against my plan.
Emma gets home from school. All is well, catch up on the day, have a snack, and then they decide to “P.L.A.Y”. How in the WHOLE W-I-D-E W.O.R.L.D did they magically decide to play in the 2 rooms I had attempted to clean??? And I don’t just mean play, like with a few toys. I mean- Emma “washed” her hands after snack in the hall bath totally eliminating the appearance of cleanliness and that was right before Aidan walks into the bathroom and pees on the floor. Shooing them on to take care of the pee they head off to the boys’ room. Emma instantly decides to “help” mommy and make Aidan’s bed. (Um..it’s already made, but TRYING to remain a calm mother who ultimately cares much more about her children and their thoughts and feelings of belongingness to the family WAY over the cleanliness of her home I yield let her “help”) Losing track of Aidan I didn’t realize he had gotten back into the bathroom and covered his hands with hand soap. Now, he’s too little to reach the faucet/water to actually wash the soap off. So, lifting him to assist (wait no I’d never do that…I’m not supposed to physically be lifting him!) in washing it all off before it ends up in his eyes. He and I return to boys’ room to find Emma “reorganizing” the clothes in the closet. Wow, well that would only be the clothes I had hung and sorted earlier today. Ugh! Again shooing them from the closet they land over by the book shelf. You guessed it. The one I had just loaded with all the books strewn around the room/hallway earlier. Ok. That is it. I fold. Yield. Surrender.
Off to the basement. There’s always laundry to be done. Emma & Aidan were helpers earlier and took all the dirty laundry down so now all I have to do is sort and load while they read books. Enter laundry room. Find- Aidan’s urine soaked clothing on top of my basket of CLEAN laundry needing fluffed or ironed. AHHHH!
White flag is waving. This war is not mine to fight. I’m out numbered. Matt will be home in minutes and BTW…where is child #3…the new one…. Isaac during all this?
So, like a good wife when I call Matt and let him know it was “his” night to bring dinner. I also fill him in on my lack of accomplishments around the house and Emma and Aidan’s future helping the security and defense of our country.
UPDATE: The dog is in on it too. I’ve waited all day for our darn icemaker to make enough ice for a nice big glass of ice water or ice tea. All my little future government workers in bed I sit down to compute with my glass of ice water and big bowl of cookies & cream ice cream. My fowl mouth (and I mean FOWL you’d rather kiss his “other end”) dog first drinks from my glass and then knocks over the glass spilling my precious ice cubes and water…right down the air conditioner vent. It’s time to call it a night.
