Saturdays, as I've mentioned, are my "real" cleaning days usually. Well I went up to help our young ones and made a discovery: found about five shirts stuffed in the back of our son's drawer. When I pulled them out he didn't seem too concerned. Looked like his little nostrils flared a bit. Maybe disappointment? There were no words coming from his mouth.
"We need to wash these so you can wear these again. I'd forgotten about them," I smiled as I shook them out.
As I continued helping, I realized that at least two of those shirts he didn't care for.
"The kids are gonna waugh (still trouble with Ls) at me," he told us one morning before school. Kids these days don't know style. The shirt was "Hot" as they say, to me.
Sitting there in the quiet of his partially cleaned room I thought about it. Then I thought about me... back in the day... when I didn't like something I had to wear.
I would mix up a concoction of whatever I could get my hands on in the kitchen and mix it all up and put it on an area of the hated clothing. And hope that it would be bad enough to not come out. Hoped my mom couldn't "Shout" it out. Most times she couldn't. Or I would stain a dress on the Sunday mornings that the "Old Folks" choir was singing. I think they called them the "Seniors". I didn't want to go those Sundays and watch them rock different ways and sing out the hymnals ALL morning. When they would sing, "I'll Fly Away" for the 200th time I was hoping they would really fly away out that prism glass near the organ. Or "Pass Me Not" for the thousandth time- "Please Jesus don't pass them by. Stop and pick 'em up!" Okay I went on a tangent didn't I. Memories. I tell ya!
So I empathized with our son. I decided to wash them and pass two of them on to someone else. Aren't I the best? He's lucky. My mom woulda gave me a 20-minute spill about how little kids in Africa didn't have any clothes and I should appreciate the thick, wooled, turtlenecks she bought me. I would have lost teeth had I informed her that the little African children didn't need the clothes- they were HOT! Like my neck was in those shirts!!
Adventures of a seemingly dYsFUNctioNALl mom and wife!
Popular Posts
-
While cooking and watching The Voice the other night with the family, our youngest was awed by one of the contestants. He commented, "...
-
I haven't written in a few months but that certainly doesn't mean that nothing has happened. We put away the vertically-challenged M...
-
Okay, I still don't know where I am going wrong with parenting. Tonight Maurissa got made at her brother and called him a doofus. A ...
-
So... the kids and I were on our way back home from my parents' house Wednesday when my six-year-old says what you don't want to hea...
-
I have to replace my brow technician. Yes, the place is two stoplights and a railroad track away but it's time. Now I have to take so...
-
White boots with the orange wheels and a little pom-pom in front of the stopper! I had to have 'em. I jumped out my van. "How much...
-
Our six-year-old son wanted so badly to help Dude dig a pit for his high school track and field students yesterday. "No buddy. You have...
-
After all of my many talks about not letting other kids take advantage of them and taking up for one another, our little eight-year-old, com...
-
Earlier this year one of my students, who has been in the country less than a year, innocently asked, "What is A Deez Nuts?" Th... -
I think I've mentioned that I work with kindergartners... all day long. Then have to deal with my two for the rest of the day. Feel my...
No comments:
Post a Comment