With Genius and The Pony home for a few days, I remembered what I DON'T miss about having them around.
Cold showers.
Feeding them.
Sticky floor.
Picking up.
Let's dwell on the PICKING UP theme today. You'd think that someone old enough to drink homemade wine (given to Farmer H by a casual friend who quit drinking) would be able to throw away his used red Solo cup when finished. But no! That is MY JOB!
You'd think that if you use a paper towel (for what, I don't know, since it obviously wasn't to wipe up a mess), you'd understand that it should be put in the wastebasket, not on the cutting block two feet away.
But here's the biggest violation. Get ready to be outraged, fellow picker-uppers!
Genius gave Farmer H a beer-making kit for Christmas. It's a clever gift, and something they could do together, although it would have been nicer if they had more time. Anyhoo...Genius decreed that Farmer H should unwrap his gift on Christmas Eve afternoon. They set about their brewing around 1:30. In fact, they squeezed me out of my own kitchen as I was trying to prepare a plate of leftovers for my lunch. We were due at Sis's house by 6:00 for her Christmas Eve dinner.
Genius rifled through my lower cabinets, looking for three large pots. He'd bought a large strainer and other accoutrements at The Devil's Playground. I told him he'd need to make sure those pots got put back, because I cannot get down on my knees and sort through the pans in the lower cabinets. He assured me that he would wash those pots, and return them as they were.
You know what happened, right? After boiling hops and wheat and assorted beery things, Genius DID wash the pots. Meaning, he gave that task to Friend, who did a good job of it. They set them on top of the stove (not like we'd be using that area to warm leftovers or make breakfast or anything) to finish air-drying.
Christmas Day, Genius and Friend were packing up all their stuff to go spend a few days with Friend's parents, then fly off west for a ski trip. My pots were still sitting on the stove.
"Genius, when you have time, I'd like you to put these pots back in the cabinet before you head out." Just a reminder, you know. In case he forgot.
WELL! You'd think I'd asked the cardiologist to clip my toenails! (That actually happened with my grandpa and his wife.) Farmer H got all snotty with me. Not so much in words, but with THAT LOOK of his. Obviously, nobody at Kellerman's puts Baby in a corner, and nobody in Hillmomba asks Genius to put away pots!
Farmer H got up off the short couch, stormed into the kitchen, and put those pots away himself. I don't really think he got them all three in the right place, but the two I use most were correct.
Sorry, but I can't believe a 25-year-old, whose career is programming a driverless car, is incapable of returning three pots to their proper location.
9 comments:
Once they get bigger/older, their ego gets a bit bigger too.
Sometimes our son will give us advice, as if we had just been born and had crawled out from under a rock.
By the way, you might be visited by Rebecca DeMornay. She might want those muffin tops, and leave you the cookie stubs...
Sioux,
Let's not forget how WE are the generation that has ruined the world, making life so tough for THEM! Sweet Gummi Mary! I think they are in for a rude awakening when their generation is really in charge. Sure, there are select individuals who have it covered. But overall, I foresee a lot of couch-surfing freeloaders unable to cope when their inheritance runs out...
Sioux II
Rebecca DeMornay better be wearing her wraparound sunglasses if she comes into the casino restaurant to claim those muffin tops for the homeless! If not, she'll be blinded so severely that she won't be able to see the TOILET BOOK that she wants to refuse.
I can't believe YOU did the picking up and wiping spills thing. They should know better. Ignore Farmer H and his black looks and haul those kids back to where they left stuff and make them clear it. My son does that with his teenagers: "Oi! Get back in here and put this away" and so on. anybody that comes to my home knows full well to rinse their coffee mugs and leave them in the drainer, not just leave them wherever they finished their coffee. Yep, we're a harsh bunch downunder. But it saves ME a lot of work.
River,
Genius was in bed or out running around when I cleaned the sticky drops. BUT, he'd been the first one to say, "EW! I just stepped in something, and my sock stuck to it." Didn't even make an attempt to wipe it up. Even though I gave him the stink-eye. Just went on his merry way with a cup full of ice and water from FRIG II's door.
I've tried to hold him accountable all along, but Farmer H steps in to undermine me and take Genius's side. He doesn't do that with The Pony. In fact, after Christmas dinner on Sunday afternoon, he said to Genius and Friend, "You boys want to come shoot my new gun? Pony, you're going to help your mom clean up, right?" Poor Pony.
SO STICKY. I'm starting to think it was juice from the cherry cordials that my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel made for me, that were sitting on the kitchen counter. If somebody bit into one while walking around the kitchen, that could explain it. And they'd likely eat more than one, so after wiping up, the spots would appear again. Still, it could have been Genius OR Farmer H, or even Friend. I heard walking around the kitchen at 3:30 a.m. one night. Farmer H swore it wasn't him. Could have been cherry-eaters!
If they reappear now, it will be due to Farmer H.
Do you ever bring baggies to the casino? Keeping them in your pocket, you can slip in some hash browns, some greasy bacon for later, and so on...
Sioux,
I have, in the past, brought a baggie to the casino. It was used for holding ice, to hold upon my knee when I came back to the room. I had extra in my gambling purse, and used one for STEALING MUFFIN TOP COOKIES once before! I did not have any with me this time. My mom would be disappointed in my lack of resourcefulness!
My mum would be disappointed too. She always had baggies to take stuff home in, no matter where she went.
River,
Mine too, although she could have just asked for it to take home, in most cases. It can't be served to someone else! Farmer H used to stick his thumb in the side of leftover rolls (as the boys got older, there were NEVER any LEFTOVER rolls) so the restaurant wouldn't give them to someone else. Nobody should have rolls that other people have handled in deciding which one they want.
I can understand how a buffet doesn't want you loading up a plate with the intention of eating some, then taking the rest with you.
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