Tuesday, September 28, 2010

A Letter to my kids...

Dear Kids,

Contrary to popular belief, the house is not self-cleaning. Backpacks, shoes toys, etc., do not sprout legs and walk themselves to where they belong. The vacuum does not run itself and the mop does not dance around all the floors like in Fantasia. If Disney would make that happen then I would finally believe in "Happily Ever After".

The clothes that you all like to wear each day do not wash themselves and hang themselves up to dry. Nor have they, to the best of my knowledge, learned how to use an iron or mastered the art of folding themselves.

The toilets do not scrub themselves and neither do the shower, the bathtub or the toothpaste spit stained sinks. (Seriously, can't you rinse that down when you're done brushing? It's a real bitch to clean up once it's dried.) Oh, the mirrors do not magically shine to let you see your smiling little faces either. It takes some elbow grease and windex. It's almost an art to get them looking fabulously streak free so keep your damn fingers off or risk losing them!

The refrigerator dose not take a trip to the grocery store and fill itself with food. Nor does it prepare the food and put it on the stove, in the oven or microwave. Also, do you really have to touch every inch of every stainless steel appliance? Heaven forbid there is once place that does not have a grubby little finger smudge or face print. Really? A face print? Which one of you closes the fridge with their face?! Don't answer that. I don't want to know.

The dishwasher does infact wash the dishes. I do not deny this. However it has not learned and never will learn how to load and unload itself. You can stop assuming that this is how it happens because it most definately does not.

The lawn does not suck the grass in to make it shorter each week nor does the lawn gnome spring to life and pluck it uniformly short. The mower has to be gassed, primed and pushed over the yard repeatedly for it to be cropped so neatly.

Please consider this my letter of resignation. By this I mean that I am resigned to the fact that I will continue to do these things regardless of the recognition or lack there of.  I will do them because I love both of you.

Love,
Mom

No comments:

Who I Am

My photo
Scatterbrain painting fanatic with a temper.