I’ve bitched, moaned, groaned, unnerved. I’ve yelled, screamed, pushed and pointed. Finally on Saturday the kids had had enough. “Okay Mom” the doll replied. “Yes Mama” the boy complied.
The doll picked up, put away vacuumed and dusted. The boy washed, scrubbed and disinfected. Together-they worked separately; each completing tasks which kept their usual fighting at bay.
The kitchen was filled with the sounds of Motown, as I collected, deciphered and shredded bills and such; emptied, then reloaded the dishwasher to run before thoroughly washing down counters, table, stove and microwave.
The boy’s bedroom was filled with the sounds of Jethro Tull? as he created a pathway through his mess, picking up dirty clothes for to wash; dusting only the open spaces, but nothing really more.
The doll moved onto clean her bedroom; closing her door to quell the competing music her brother and I blared out. Instead strands of Today’s hits filled her air as she exhibited a better desire to rid her room of dust.
Only argument heard? “It’s totally gross!! There are spiders in my room…” “Perhaps if you cleaned and dusted more often you could keep them out of your room!” “Mom!!”
Ah…the sweet sounds of a home…