Sweet Gummi Mary, please grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, the wisdom to know the difference, and the self-control not to strangle the #1 son.
I was whipping up four different suppers tonight, and I asked The Pony to fill my water cup with ice from the the left door of Frig. He did so, then handed me the heaping cup. "Wait a minute!" The Pony fished in the top layer, and extracted a particularly enticing cube, which he immediately popped into his mouth.
"Hey! I don't want your hand juice all in there."
"Oo ate." Which I took to mean, "Too late."
"Hand me some sunflower seeds to put on top of my salad."
"Ere ill I ind em?"
"In the little pantry, behind you." As he was fetching them for me, the #1 son took time out from feasting on his Blazin' Chunks buffalo chicken to inject his two cents.
"Aren't they on the counter, right in front of you?"
"No! I put things away!"
"Well, they were there a couple of weeks ago. Because I found them. I wanted a snack, so I ate some."
"I envision you sticking your tongue down in the bag, like an anteater scooping up ants."
"How did you know?"
Nothing is safe. Nothing is mine. Every item I possess is defiled with boy DNA.
Whets the old appetite, huh? If it makes you feel any better, teenage girls would be all in your bath stuff and shoes .... and your food.
ReplyDeleteYes, boys (AKA men). They mark it by drooling on it, peeing on it, sweating on it or farting on it.
ReplyDeleteWhat is theirs is theirs and what is yours can stay yours...as long as you have a strong stomach and not very high standards when it comes to cleanliness or culinary expectations.
I'm thinking you may weather the "empty nest syndrome" in pretty good fashion.
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteThank the Gummi Mary, I have never had to cross the girl bridge. I'm afraid the attitude would do me in.
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Sioux,
They leave none of my territory unmarked.
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knancy,
They are setting me up well for the slashing of the apron strings.