Let me preface this by saying the boys are usually good. We have our days, as all families do, but they're good kids. That said, the following is an entire voicemail, left for me by my beloved wife today that I thought bore transcription. Rose - don't hate me.
9/1/09
3:22 PM, a very calm and rational-sounding wife:
"Hey babe, it's me. I'm in the middle of a bit of a standoff here...sooo.... I am not going to be cleaning up the family room. I told the boys ten times they had to do it (Ed. note - Clean up after themselves.) so ummm.. they're not allowed to do anything tonight until that room gets cleaned up. I mean, I'm gonna be here for the next hour then I think you need to be the one to make them do it (Ed. note - She was meeting a friend for dinner - a rare treat) but if not, I think you have to be the one to enforce it...because...I just....I can't do anything other than ask a million billion times and punish and...we're already not getting a DVD from the library this week and so...that's it. If they would rather play than clean up the mess than that's fine but they have to clean it up tonight when you get home. Ok? Ok - love you."
Ah parenthood. I learned later that Pete had squeezed toothpaste all over his feet today as well. Wish I had a picture of that, actually.
Dear stay-at-home parents - you rule.
2 comments:
So...who cleaned the room? :)
The boys and I did together. My method? Saying, "I'm going to cover my eyes and count to 10. When I open them, I want one thing put away and I'm going to guess what it was." And so on.
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