You know that saying, “Your mom doesn’t live here.” It’s usually followed by some direction to clean up after yourself and stop being gross.
I don’t really understand where that phrase came from. I mean, my apartment has a mom who does live here, and she doesn’t want to clean up the mess either. In fact, I started this wonderful idea where I leave notes for the boys. It started with Saturday mornings, because they always wake up (way too early for Saturday pleasantries) and want to play video games. So I started leaving notes outside their door, expressly stating no video games until the list of to-do’s was checked off.
I also make them lists when we pack for trips. That way they find everything, and I just double-check the underwear/sock counts and pack away.
This year both Mason and Milo became latchkey kids. And guess what? I can leave notes on the table to greet them. Yay!
Do you ever wonder what your kids will think of their childhood when they become adults? Because sometimes I wonder on a scale of 1-crazy, what they’ll rate my notes. And the robots I occasionally draw to make them forget there are chores listed.
P.S. If there is a pair of dirty socks on the floor neither child will claim, who should be the one to pick them up?
Also, this thing made out of socks.