Oy vey….


I had a great idea for a blog…little did I know my computer laptop had other plans. I don’t understand cloud drives sometimes. I mean I get that they hold the pictures for you, away from your computer memory and all that. But how come when I want to download one of my pictures, the file becomes unavailable. Oh I can see the picture, I just can’t share? Whatever. Instead you get this…which isn’t much, as the creative juice of my original idea has been zapped by my laptop and iCloud’s desire not to talk with one another…


When I as in High School I dated a boy whose parents kept a padlock on the refrigerator door and would only feed their children when they “paid” for their food via cash or by doing things around the house. I remember being horrified by that notion and thinking the worst of his parents; until now.

On any given day you can walk into my house and find the boy-either on his bed or laying about my living room couch, headphones in both ears, watching a video on YouTube. Such was the case last night, when he entered the living room, laid down on the couch and tried his best to tune out the rest of us. “Hey bay, do me a favor and fold that basket of clothing…” I said. Considering he had stepped over the basket on the way to the couch and said basket had been in the room almost a full day-filled mostly with his clothing; I figured that was the least he could do to help me out. Instead he looked at the basket for a moment, before returning his attention back to his iPad in a feeble attempt to tune me out.

Not to be put off I tried again, “Bay…that basket’s been there for over a day…most of the shit in there is yours…start folding”. *Ignore, Ignore, Ignore* “Bay-you do realize, I made you dinner…I pay for the Wi-Fi you are using to ignore me…I don’t ask much from you… FOLD THAT BASKET….OR LEAVE MY SIGHT!!”.

You would think with my increase in volume and decrease in temperament, the boy would have set down his iPad and begun helping. Instead he stood up, stepped back over the basket and disappeared into his bedroom. “Leave my sight is your answer huh?” I said angrily aloud to myself. When he emerged an hour later-after his father folded the basket, he announced, “I’m hungry, do we have any deserts?” Instead I replied, “Bay, I refuse to be complicit one hour more. Since I pay for everything in this house and you couldn’t help me for ten minutes on a basket of your clothing, I refuse to let you eat anything…from now on”.  He looked back at me with the “Ok momma whatever” look of his. “You know bay when my mom was mad at me from the night before, she always forgot why come morning…” He nodded his head in agreement. “I’m not my mother. If you cannot pull your ass away from the iPad for ten minutes to help me….then I refuse to feed you any longer. I suggest you get a job and figure out a way to pay for the food you eat in my house”.

He disappeared back into his bedroom.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh with him?” My hubby asked. “Perhaps…but something needs to motivate him off his lazy ass…” “So…will you feed him tomorrow?” “The question isn’t if I’m going to feed him…it’s if you’re going to be complicit with him, or stand behind me and motivate him”.  “I’m not sure it’s through his tummy…” my hubby replied. “No, perhaps not…but it’s a good place to start.


He ate breakfast this morning.


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