Heh heh,
I am a hopeless house keeper. I hate everything to do with it. But, time to time you look around, knee deep in toys, animals and lazy humans and you want to clean up. Usually when you are premenstrual but there you go.
I was throwing everything into a corner to be distributed to it's rightful place and looked around. There was SO with his feet up, my girl fiddling with her hair and my boy lost in the upper reaches of his nasal passages.
I lost it. AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO EVER PICKS UP ROUND HERE? After my outburst I carried on in a cleaning fury. It took a few seconds to register what my SO said to my daughter. 'Get up and help your Mum! You are a girl!'
I suppose a few moments of quiet went by before this filtered into my brain. When it sunk in I turned and probably looking like a cross between Crulla De ville and the Hound of Zoltan I told SO if he ever said to my baby that she should clean because she was a girl I WOULD HAVE HIS BALLS FOR BREAKFAST! Well maybe not in those words exactly in front of the weans but you get the picture.
Needless to say, the house was spotless in an hour with everyone pitching in. But then, it was time to tackle the pile of ironing.
Bear with me here. I know it is a long story.
After standing for an hour or so mindlessly (and resentfully) ironing away, my 3 year old boy said to me. 'Mama! Let daddy do that now, and you come and sit on the sofa!' SO looked in horror at the ironing board. He's not so bad. He cooks, he washes the floor, he does the shopping, but some things are just zippo right over his head. He looked at his son, then he looked at me and he got up of his backside and ironed a few simple kids tops.
That's my boy! He'll make a lucky woman very happy one day. But only if she promises to come and do my ironing first.
I am a hopeless house keeper. I hate everything to do with it. But, time to time you look around, knee deep in toys, animals and lazy humans and you want to clean up. Usually when you are premenstrual but there you go.
I was throwing everything into a corner to be distributed to it's rightful place and looked around. There was SO with his feet up, my girl fiddling with her hair and my boy lost in the upper reaches of his nasal passages.
I lost it. AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO EVER PICKS UP ROUND HERE? After my outburst I carried on in a cleaning fury. It took a few seconds to register what my SO said to my daughter. 'Get up and help your Mum! You are a girl!'
I suppose a few moments of quiet went by before this filtered into my brain. When it sunk in I turned and probably looking like a cross between Crulla De ville and the Hound of Zoltan I told SO if he ever said to my baby that she should clean because she was a girl I WOULD HAVE HIS BALLS FOR BREAKFAST! Well maybe not in those words exactly in front of the weans but you get the picture.
Needless to say, the house was spotless in an hour with everyone pitching in. But then, it was time to tackle the pile of ironing.
Bear with me here. I know it is a long story.
After standing for an hour or so mindlessly (and resentfully) ironing away, my 3 year old boy said to me. 'Mama! Let daddy do that now, and you come and sit on the sofa!' SO looked in horror at the ironing board. He's not so bad. He cooks, he washes the floor, he does the shopping, but some things are just zippo right over his head. He looked at his son, then he looked at me and he got up of his backside and ironed a few simple kids tops.
That's my boy! He'll make a lucky woman very happy one day. But only if she promises to come and do my ironing first.
