"Do you think money grows on trees?"
"Does anyone listen to me around here?"
I'll bet you could name your own. "You'll poke your eye out!" The list goes on and on.
It is said, that the older we get, the more we can relate to our parents. This was my relating this week.
How many times did I hear this? "I am SO sick of picking up after you people!" Mostly when, for the skiddy eighth time, my mother picked something up that my brother, my father or myself could've picked up if only we had actually bent from the waist. I am convinced that it was the sheer fact that we just didn't think.
Usually, I just figure. "Hey, I'm not nagging. I have it pretty doggone good. A husband who vacuums.
Who makes supper two nights out of seven. (And well presented, too.) And doesn't mind when I call cold cereal "supper".
When I ask Ms. D to pick up, she just does it. No balking. Usually."
So why should I complain about wet towels and dirty clothes strewn about? My part in our family is the daily household chores. Everyone has a part to play, right? We're one big happy team, here.
But I almost lost it (until I figured it would be fodder for blogging) when I saw this complete lack of common sense and respect for my job as mother.
Can you see that?? That is a plate on the EDGE of the chair arm, people. (That is also a lamp with a seem showing, but since Martha Stewart doesn't read this blog, I'm okay) It's a precariously tipped plate, my friends. Let's get a closer look, shall we?
Yes, that's right. It's Annie's Organic Brand Raspberry Salad dressing with baby spinach. Organic or not, I'm thinking Annie's dressing is not going to come out of that chair none to easily, do you? I don't care if the chair needs reupholstering anyway and is a ratty old thing. That is not the point, young lady.
I was about to work myself into a really good lecture about how no one THINKS around here except maybe myself and the cats, when I saw this:
It's kind of washed out, but do you know what that is??? That is a CAT. On the counter top. On the CLEAN dish towel. Sleeping. As if I have nothing better to do than to wash down the counter top and spare clean dish towels. Sleeping!! On the counter Top!! Does anyone listen to me around here??!!
OH. Sorry. Did my yelling interrupt your nap?
In the end I gave in. I didn't say a word. And in a few minutes Ms. D came in from whatever she was doing that interrupted her spinach meal and picked up the plate (probably not thinking, "My goodness, that was terribly close to making more work for my dear mother!") and put the plate in the kitchen where it belongs. And as for the cat?
I'm pretty sure she's still there.