As a parent I understand that I have to let my boys do things each day that make them feel like they are contributing to the family. It’s not easy for someone like myself to do this lightly. I like order. I like things put away. When I clean something, I expect it to look more clean than when I started. My boys don’t have these types of concerns.
I’ve come to accept that when it’s time for the boys to ‘help’ me unload the dishwasher it’s a disorderly matter. As I watched Full Speed begin to unload the cups and glasses, I marvelled at how it quickly devolved into a display of martial artistry. I didn’t know it was possible for two cups to fight to the death. He was quite creative. I kept admonishing him that my cups were not toys and could he please just put them where they were suppose to go? Apparently, he could not. He grabbed two coffee mugs and clinked them together in a rush of fighting glory. There was a crack in the air as a piece of my very favorite mug went flying. His eyes grew big and he hung his head low.
I went through the usual Mom-type lectures about ‘why don’t you listen the first time?’ and ‘cups are our friends’.
When it was all said and done, I actually am kind of thankful he chipped my favorite mug. It seems to fit my life better because really, who am I kidding? If I’m going to be the Mom of these two guys, do I really expect my porcelain mugs to remain intact? Of course not.
I wouldn’t trade my boys for all the perfectly intact dinnerware in the universe.