Chores

My kids are getting older and the are being pulled in a thousand directions. Jobs, college, romances, band gigs, church. The only time they seem to settle is when their little bodies can't take it any more and they get sick. Like last weekend Tradition and Potential were both recuperating, one had the sniffles, one still had a post-flu headache. I checked in a couple of times, asked them how they were doing, they replied by writing their response in the dust in the coffee table.

What I am really saying is that I am stuck with all the chores these days. Except I will NOT bathe the dog. Nope, don't like him that much. I support all the good things they are doing, really I do. But I do feel a bit whiney when I have to vacuum the halls now for the first time in 20 years since I started pawning off jobs on them, all in the name of good parenting, of course.

Still, Monday rolled around and I was feeling a bit sorry for myself as they all rode off to school and work, and I was left wondering how many rolls of paper towels it would take to get through the mess? So I wrote this on the white board...

"Did anyone do their chores last week?"

Before bed someone replied...

"We love you"

Tuesday morning I wrote...

"Actions speak louder than words"

Later that day I stopped dead in my tracks as I read...

"I can yell super loud"

Where did they learn to be such smart alecs?

Secret of Life

Whenever I am feeling like I would rather sit in my comfy desk chair, with it's padded seat and arm rests, then get up and do the stuff I should be doing, I justify my sitting by researching nutrition. I love those "Ten Foods to Make Your Ankles Skinnier" and "The Miracle Cure For Disobedient Children Found in Rhubarb". Last week I learned that eating a carrot a day can cut your chances of some cancers by 50%. So once I finally made it out of my desk chair I rearranged the things in the frig so that by moving the rhubarb to the top shelf I couild fit a lot more carrots in the veggie drawer. Phwew, nutrition is hard work!

Now in a previous posting I told you about my darling neighbor, Melba. You will be pleased to know that she is recovering nicely from a fall she had this summer where she broke her back. At least once a day I see her walk past my house with her cane, taking small steps, unrushed, glad to chat with the neighbors with her voice that is barely above a whisper.

Melba's sister was visiting recently from somewhere out of state. Her sister is about ten years older, every bit as whispy in form and no less determined. I chatted with them in church last week, always amazed at how these two widows never miss a beat, a meeting, a smile. I was hauling through the grocery store a couple of days later and saw them slowly emerge from an aisle. They didn't see me but I saw them, and more importantly, I saw what was in their cart. Two gallons of chocolate milk! So awesome! Here I am stuffing carrot after carrot into my mouth and all this time the secret to a long and useful life is Chocolate Milk. Maybe the secret to skinny ankles could be to soak them in chocolate milk, do you think?