That boy ...
Is going to be the death of me. He drives me crazy, he needs to be micromanaged to do his chores, which I tell you, is no fun. Makes a mom either want to tell him to go away so I can do it the right way or strangle him for being so obtuse.
This morning I got him up early to re-do some of his chores and in the middle he asks me why I didn't get him up last night. I told that I was pretty upset and didn't want to deal with it. Well, that and Joy was actually asleep by 9:30 so Tim and I had the chance to go to bed at a decent hour and I really, really, really, really did not want to deal with him. Snuggling and watching House took priority. I felt the Black mama thing coming on. Though, as Tim has pointed out more and more often, Josh might need another dose of that. The flip side is, when I do that, my heart does it's special thing and I end up (in my own eyes) looking like a wimp because I can't enforce what I just said without either having a conniption fit (a la Bill Cosby) or practically passing out because I can't breathe properly.
Anyway, I told him that I would put dishes away and any that were dirty he would hand-wash. I then realized that I couldn't supervise his hand washing of the dishes because I would be at work. So my poor hubby has to do it. Why is parenting such hard work?