Today Bosco sweetly said to me, “Mommy, this place is kind of a mess. We should probably clean it up.” And that’s when you know you have other things to do besides blog and eat potato chips and daydream about how many throw pillows you would buy if you had a million dollars.
Well I guess the dear boy was right. Right as rain (what does that saying even mean?) Our house was a mess.
Being the kind and gracious mother that I am, I decided it best not to mention that most of the mess was his fault in one way or another. Obviously the whole million-toys-on the-floor scenario wouldn’t exist without him. I prefer to play with money, not toys. Then there’s that whole thing about my inability to bend over and pick things up. Well that all came about when I carried Bosco in my womb for 10 months, leaving my sciatic nerve a big horrendous mess. Then there’s the occasional headache that forces (yes forces!) me to close my eyes, blinding me from the ever present dust particles. Well those headaches no doubt are caused by Bosco’s loud, although funny, antics. And how could I forget, the tiredness that plagues my body, preventing me from having the necessary motivation to scrub toilets. Well that weariness is a direct result of someone’s 7:30 wake up call. And of course there’s the onset of laziness caused from knowing the house will just be messy again in 20-30 minutes. Well we all know a clean floor is like unto Disneyland to a three-year old. So much room to just get all crazy and lose one’s mind from pure happiness.
But I would be remiss if I didn’t also point the finger at another major contributor to the pit that is our house of late.
Duh. Of course his shirt says Mr. Mischief.
I have to give little Bubba some credit though. That basket of coupons, junk, flyers, junk, paper, and junk was getting out of control. I hate how
I the Redhead the Husband just throws things in there and expects it to magically be picked up and sorted through. Like how many unused coupons to Arby's, Papa Murphy’s, and Pizza Hut does one need? I mean really coupon hoarder, how many? (The answer to this is at least eight and a half of each. Just in case. You never know. You might suddenly NEED to save $2. And you might suddenly remember that you were saving those coupons for just such an occasion.)
So with gentle nudging and minimal help from my eldest son, our house is coming along quite nicely. And it will be chaos again by the time I post this. C'est la vie. Now all I have to do is sit back and wonder what kind of person these evil, evil hands of mine are irreversibly molding my son into becoming. A clean one, that’s for sure.