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It’s SO not fair…

Dear Evans and Morgan,

This morning, I contemplated keeping both you boys home from school. Not because you were feeling under the weather but, rather because both of you were being total jerks.
You see, when I keep a either one of you home from school, unless you are running a high temp, vomiting any and everywhere, forced to stay on the toilet or some injury that requires a trip to the ER, I consider being home from school a time for reflection on WHY you are even here. And, to make sure that you never want to be at home with me again.
You see, I have these two men-children that, for some reason, think that it is okay to disobey me, pretend they didn’t hear me or for lack of better reasoning, utter the phrase, “I forgot”. As if forgetting ever got me out of paying a late bill or picking them up from school on the daily.
So, you see, for that very reason, I see you being at home as a means of learning. Education of the world, if you will.
When at home with me, there are chores to be done. There is no such thing as sleeping all day, playing a video game, building with Legos or partaking in television time. Oh, on the contrary. When at home with me, you will earn that bed you sleep in, those clothes you wear and the luxury of having everything your little heart needs and desires.
And, unfortunately, these privileges are earned by the following:
I hate cleaning baseboards. Therefore, you will clean them. I hate cleaning toilets. Hence, I will hand you the toilet brush. Call me crazy but, if I have to clean MY room, I believe that you should do the same. Everything in it’s correct place and if not, well, that’s my prerogative and my prerogative is to place it gently in the trash receptacle.
There is vacuuming to be done, there are windows to be washed. (Don’t worry, I have a sturdy step stool)
There are piles of poop to be scooped and there are weeds to be pulled.
I have a car that needs to be cleaned out and truck that requires the same.
The front porch has been neglected as of late and being that I purchased you each a broom conducive to YOUR SIZE, I see no reason that you should not use it.
I seemed to have forgotten the dusting and the cleaning of the blinds. Not to mention, the vacuuming of the stairs. (Gosh, I hate that)
And, as I recall, I did save your old toothbrushes. They seem to do a bang up job of getting tile cleaned. Well, at least I hear they do. I hate that chore so therefore, you are going to do.

So, you see my dearest, darling men-children, please think twice about arguing with me about that belt that I asked you put on. Or, feeding the dogs when it isn’t “your job”. Please, by all means, reconsider complaining to me how it is “not fair” that you have to put away your own clothes and make your beds before school.

One last note, please consider this a courtesy notice of behavior that will earn you a day home from school WITH ME and all that comes along with it.

Your Loving Mother,
Melody

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About melodyswatson

Thanks for giving this blog a chance. Well, it would have been cool if you would have tried it when I started it like, FOUR FUCKING YEARS AGO! But, water under the bridge and lets go from here… ;) I am a soon to be, 40 year old mother of three boys, proud wife to one sexy ass Navy Chief, fur-mom to two dogs, five cats, two rats and a black corn snake. I thrive on chaos and therefore I also bottle feed and foster underage kittens for my girlfriend's rescue. I am THE Crazy Cat Lady. I live in Southern California (yes, you can be jealous now) and own my home so… I won't ever be leaving! I am not close to my family mainly because… well, I don't really relate to them. But, I love the fuck out of my friends and will do anything for them. I hope that you will follow this blog. Mainly because it would nice to hear your own experiences or times you relate to something you read on here. But, also be aware that I am NOT an everyday, on schedule blogger. I blog when I have something to share. Always remember that forced words on paper are just as fake as that 'comeback' you have towards someone ten minutes too late. Let it go and wait for the next victim. I am also a staunch supporter of swearing. If I didn't swear, you would know that I was dead. So, take a stroll down memory lane on this blog and follow my thoughts and adventures.

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