Four boys and a mom
I don’t know if it’s just me. But living with four boys, (yes, sometimes I feel like I have a fourth child – points to hubby) I sometimes feel like an underdog, sometimes a maid. I do delegate chores but I still end up finishing them. My kids wash the dishes, (on the weekends and vacations only), but they always leave the containers and pots and pans in the sink. Reggie helps me with the vacuuming but he doesn’t lift stuff off the carpet/floor.
And please somebody tell me if I’m high-maintenance or if it’s just that men do things differently than women. It always ticks me off when I open the cupboard and plastic containers fall because my husband just stuffs them there in a disorderly fashion. Or when he opens the box of granola bars on the wrong end, the one without the tab, so the box stays open until all the bars are gone. Or when he wouldn’t mop the kitchen floor because “he just mopped it last week.” I have delegated mopping the kitchen to Reggie but as R says, “hindi naman nalalampaso nang maayos.” This is just to name a few.
We had an early taste of warmer weather 2-3 weeks ago and the re-appearance of dirty, sweaty socks rolled in a ball brought me back to last year’s summer. I told my four boys, “If I see any more of these socks, I’m going to let you unroll them or I won’t wash them. I’ll leave them in a pile and I won’t care if you run out of socks.” I may have been a little harsh, but I think they got my point. No more rolled socks in the hamper.
And the toilet… Why am I the only one interested in cleaning it when they are ones using it the most? I have trained the older ones, and still in the process with the little one. “Just point and shoot,” I told him. But somehow, the floor around the toilet still gets wet. Sometimes I wonder if it’s only the little one who misses the bowl.
How many times did my two younger sons hear me say, “Eto po, senyorito,” to which Ryan asks, “What does that mean?” Or “Here, your Highness,” to which Ryland will say, “I’m not a king.” And then I will say, “Here, your Littleness.” I attend to everybody’s need first before I can sit down and start eating. By then I’m already starving and grumpy. R usually finishes first. Ryan will ask me to help him cut his apple or peel his orange while I’m still having my meal. Or Ryland will ask me for juice. Both boys by-passing their dad who is seating beside or across from them, done eating and just watching TV. (Yes, we do have a TV in the kitchen. You can argue with me now but I will discuss this in the future.)
So, please tell me, is it just me?
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