The Mother of All Headaches (aka Kids Parties)



Much as it pains me to admit, I really owe Himself a huge debt of gratitude for fortuitously ensuring I'd be pregnant, not once but twice, during the hot Texas summers.  Mind you, it starts 'warming up' by the end of April.  Instinctively, my man knew that I was not a woman cut out to host kid-centric parties.  The thought of a marauding horde of mini-mes breaching the gates of our castle gives me the hives.  I'd rather be decapitated with a grapefruit spoon.  Playdates (and just who the hell coined THAT term, anyway?), where the Co-Defendant to friend ratio has historically been 1:1, is my limit.  Go ahead, call me a sissy; I'll wear that moniker with pride.

It's difficult enough to come up with new and innovative gift ideas for my own offspring, let alone anyone else's.  Sadists will throw out the 'no gifts, please' comment just to watch the unbelieving masses squirm.  Who're they trying to fool?  I'm operating under the assumption that my or my child's mere presence at a juvenile soiree just ain't gonna cut it for the birthday child, thank you very much.  The 'gifts optional' route is no better.  Does anyone really take the word optional seriously? 

"We want her to have friends', Dear Hubby intones from his throne (the leather one, not the porcelain one).  "Send a gift!"  Right-o, old chap!

My children, especially The Diva, whine occasionally about the millstone that is their summer birthday and how it's just not fair they don't get to star in an over the top birthday production complete with bouncy house, clowns twisting anemic balloons into bizarre animal shapes and a miniature pony (I shit you not).  My response never varies.  "Look, Sunny D and a cookie cake during the school year *at school* is the absolute best I can manage.  Take it or leave it." 

I know that sounds heartless, but my birthday is January 1st.  Was I in school when my birthday rolled around?  No.  Did classmates ditch winter vacation plans to come to my party?  No.  Have I suffered any ill effects?  Only if you count the fact that I'm a registered Democrat.  Otherwise, no.  Face it, do you really think the Joneses are going to forgo that sunny trip to the Bahamas just so little Dick and Jane can come to my kids' party?  Would you?  Um...no.

When all else fails and their lower lip sags so low I could practically turn them into upright vacuum cleaners, I appeal to their greedy grub-grabbing inner selves.

"Okay, I'll go all out: bouncy house, rent out the gymnastics place or even (God help me) cross the threshold of a Chuck E. Cheese's for you and 5000 of your closest friends so long as you understand this translates into fewer presents from Mom and Dad." 

Ding-ding-ding!  A family party it shall be!

Bad mommy...

Eight

My 'baby' turned eight today.  Yesterday she was a chubby legged toddler whom I was coaxing to say 'Mama'; today she's a smack talking eight year old who couldn't keep quiet if her life depended on it.  And some days, trust me, it does.

Lord, give me strength for the next 365 days!  And for however long thereafter You deem fit.

My Dad, who's big into woodworking and can build practically anything, had set aside some tools in his workshop just for her.  Today, he decided she needed her own.  So, off they went to Home Depot which she told him is her favorite store of all time (huh?) to purchase her very own set.

Behold...

Do you think she's excited?

That bag is filled with tools.  Not miniature-sized ones, mind you, but full-sized, sweaty, low-ridin' pants wearin', hunka man tools.  Hammer, tape measure, screwdrivers, pliers, a SAW (no, I am not kidding), level and heaven knows what else.  Apparently, my Dad is trying to prepare her in case she marries a fellow that is not so handy.  Not that I'd be married to anyone like that...ahem.

She got some really awesome Lego sets and plowed through two sets before the birthday cake sugar slump and frustration kicked in.  So, in steps Big Bro to get her back on the Lego track.



'Please tell me you didn't take my picture...'

Happy Birthday, Peabody!

You Don't Want To Go There

Pardon me while I rant.  Or don't pardon me.  It's your call.

This goes out to every judgemental asshat who thinks they have a say in how my husband and I parent our children, specifically about our decision to medicate them because of their ADHD.  If you're one of those folks that thinks ADHD is about bad parenting or out of control children who just need a good old-fashioned ass-whoopin', let me assure you you don't know shit.  ADHD is a medical condition related to brain chemistry and brain anatomy.  It can be hereditary.  Don't believe me?  Look it up.  And before you go all snarky, no I didn't drink or do drugs while I was pregnant.  And no, I've never done dope at any other time, either. 

A friend summed ADHD up this way...imagine every movie, TV show and commerical you've ever seen and every song you've ever heard.  Now imagine all those sounds and images barrelling through your brain at once.  All that WHILE trying to learn and live a normal life.  Sounds like a picnic, right?!

Both my kids struggle: one with grades, the other with behavior.  I'm proud to say one child's last report card was mostly Cs...no, this isn't me being sarcastic.  The other one struggles to make and keep friends because they play like an NFL linebacker and ping-pong between activities.  They get in trouble for fidgeting and talking out of turn, stuff neuro-typical children can control and parents of neuro-typical children take for granted.  You think this is easy for them?  Screw off!

Come live ONE day inside of them and see what it's like.  You couldn't hack it.  I'm the Mom and I only see part of their struggle.  I cannot imagine what it's like to have ADHD, nor do I care to do so.

You don't like the fact I put them on amphetamines?  Trust me, you wouldn't like them off of them.  You, you judgemental asshat, would be the first to bitch and whine about their behavior and why aren't you as a parent doing anything about it!  They are truly lovely children even though I bitch about them on this blog.  I'd like them even if they weren't mine.   

Do not question our decisions as parents about how/when/why we treat these children with medications.  It's for their benefit, not yours.  Rest assured, we monitor their weight and make sure they have a good diet.  We watch them closely for side effects.  Not that this is any of your affair.  They are, after all, my children not yours.

I am the mama bear.  Don't mess with my cubs.

Really?!

My children are absolutely committed to the notion that I just fell off the turnip truck.  In Texan, this means they think I'm utterly gullible.

Several months back, Co-Defendant #1 learned the fine household art of doing laundry after I found a stack of clean, neatly folded clothing buried under a pile of dirty underpants in his hamper.  You'd think #2 would've learned a thing or two from this experience.  She gloated over #1's unfortunate circumstances and went her merry way.

Apparently, I'm not raising rocket scientists here.

Behold...

I'm sooo tired of doing laundry!

Shoving dirty clothes into your dresser drawers gets you instant membership into the Do Your Own Laundry Society.  Welcome!

I am one happy mama! 

Redneck Humor

Why can't I be one of those gals that makes a tidy bundle coming up with clever slogans that get slapped on a variety of items like lunchboxes, dishtowels and yard art!?  I tell you, if I'd thought of ______, I'd be retired by now.

But I'm not, so my purchase today is feathering someone else's nest.  So be it.  With two smart-assed lovely children in the house, I just had to buy this metal sign...

Yes, I could've appropriated the slogan as my own and NOT bought the sign, but I figure being able to point to said sign while uttering the slogan will save this redneck mama some jail time should I instead have opted to strangle one of the aforementioned offspring.  Besides, I don't look good in horizontal stripes or day-glo orange...and even I know you don't wear socks with flip-flops!

My son just rolled his eyes...and I pointed to the sign and in my most awesome Texas twang (it's a twang, not an accent..accents are for our northern brethren.  That's our lesson for the day) delivered those sure to be infamous words. 

Golly, was that satisfying!

Darn You Jessie!

Co-Defendant #2 is a huge fan of Disney Channel and the show Jessie in particular.  If you don't know about Jessie, played by actress Debby Ryan, here's a bit of background:

She's from a military family stationed at Ft. Hood Texas who came to New York City to chase her dreams of music stardom and wound up as a nanny for a whole passel of spoiled, needy kids whose dad is some rich Hollywood-type and his supermodel/supermogul wife.

Jessie's accent grates on my nerves (I sooo do not sound like her) and she's a few bricks shy of a full load if you get my drift. 

Where am I going with this?  Well, Toys 'R Us nicely sent #2 a gift card for her upcoming birthday so of course we HAD to make a trip there this morning.  And what does she want?  A guitar...just like Jessie.

Thank you, a thousand thank yous merciful Lord, that she didn't want drums!

Where's the Tylenol?

Thursday Tidbits

Today's a day of celebration in our house.

It's our 15th wedding anniversary!  Add almost 5 years of dating and you come up with 20 years of driving one another to the brink and back again.  Whohoo, that lucky devil!  Here's what DH sent me today...

I've told the man over and over and over not to send me flowers.  So glad he didn't listen!  He won't remember that these are the same color I carried in my bouquet but it's certainly a nice coincidence.

Our daughter has finally decided that she is a girl.  Oh, sweet hallelujah!  She's asking for dresses and skirts...oh, my!  And look at what she picked up at the grocery...

You won't believe the amount of crap I had to take to get this shot!  On the way home we got into a discussion about age.  She told me I've only been alive 7 years and you've only been alive for 22 Mom and that's not old.  Sigh.  I think this child is my favorite.  Actually, no my favorite child is the dog but mistaking me for 22 certainly scores you brownie points.

On a side note, the packages for my FBFs Giveaway are in the mail...hooray!  Hopefully, they'll arrive at their new homes this weekend.

Happy Thursday, y'all!

Mother's Day Humor

Wishing you a Happy Mother's Day from Texas! 

My shirt sums it up for my household...

Whether they grew under your heart or in it, whether they're still little or all grown up (or think they are), whether they've passed on or are still with you, may you have an awesome Mother's Day because...

MOMS ROCK!!

Ouch Dammit!

Friday morning, Co-Defendant #2 had a poetry recital where, complete with props, she recited Daddy Fell Into The Pond by Alfred Noyes with poise and confidence.  I was so proud.  And if you're interested, I can recite the damn thing in my sleep.  By recital day, I was ready to shove Daddy into the pond and hold him under.  Bad mommy...

Afterward, the mommies all gathered round their respective offspring for hugs and high fives and I was no exception.  Down the hall in her classroom there awaited a Mothers' Day reception where I'd perch myself on an impossibly tiny, hard plastic chair and partake of a cupcake and Kool-Aid and try my hand at conversation with women with whom I had absolutely nothing in common.  Well, other than an obnoxious seven year old, of course.

There she stood with a shy smile and pink cheeks as I congratulated her on a job well done.

Then she said:  I don't mean to be rude, but I don't want you to come.  I don't want to be embarrassed.  Would you please just leave?  I'll give you twenty kisses when I get home, okay?  Bye, Mom and waited expectantly for me to get the hell out. 

I'd heard the expression like being stabbed in the heart and now I knew firsthand what that meant.  THAT FRIGGIN' HURT!  I couldn't believe what I was hearing, pausing to ask her to clarify what she meant only to have her assure me what she wanted was for me to leave.  Bye-bye...ta-ta...see ya later.  Talk about don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out!  After calling my mother who totally got the magnitude of what I was experiencing and my husband on whom the whole concept was totally lost, I went home and got my mad on.  I so did not sign up for this shit.  Not fair shouted my inner child as she stamped her foot. 

I came to the conclusion that for her, school was her domain and she didn't want Mom to be a part of it.  Fair enough, but I didn't have to like it.  My work schedule doesn't allow for me to put in many school appearances so when I'm able, I go. 

She got in the car at pickup time and informed me she'd missed me terribly after I left and was sorry she'd made me go.

Crickets chirping...

Let me get this straight, I said.  Your exact words were...I want you to go.  I don't want to be embarrassed.  I left as you requested.  You got what you wanted.

Dead silence.  Even my son, the master of Blunt and Thoughtless, was stunned into silence.  I caught the  sideways Holy crap glance he directed at his sister and knew she was squirming like a fish on a hook.  I let her know that while she was allowed to express her thoughts and feelings, her delivery was a bit off and my feelings were hurt.  She was apologizing before I even finished my spiel.  I informed them that given the opportunity, I would be present at school functions but that I solemnly swore I would not pick my nose, scratch my butt or fart...uttered with my right hand raised.

They are satisfied.

Paige's PJs

Here's a picture of the Princess and her baby doll Sally in the new pajamas my Mom made for them at quilt retreat.  To say this is the only time this child ever wears anything remotely girly would be an understatement.  I think they make a cute pair...

I haven't touched a fabric scrap or sewing machine since I got home Sunday, so I'm off to clean up the horrid mess that is my dining room.

I'm linking to Richard Quilts and Confessions of a Fabric Addict and Amy Lou Who.  Check them out for the latest on what other talented people have in the works!

Race To The Finish

Sorry if you were hoping the post title was a reference to NASCAR, but I'm referring to Co-Defendant #1's Davy Crockett get-up for American Hero Friday at school.  DH brought home dinner so I could finish it up last night...thanks, Dear!  Nothing like last-minute pressure to really make you put the pedal to the metal!

This week has been a busy one at our house.  Between nursing a sick kiddo and running 'round like mad to gather supplies for his stinkin' costume, there's been zero time for quilting.  Just one more week and my Mom and I will be at a quilt retreat...hang on, QuiltnMama!

Here's the (albino) coonskin cap and fringed shirt I managed to come up with...

I think they both turned out fairly well, all things considered.

Here's my boy, I mean, Davy...I hope the real Davy didn't look like such a dork.  Bad mother!

The moccasins go pretty well with the whole ensemble, although he kept calling them Grandpa shoes.  Sorry, kid, but you can't beat Walmart clearance prices when you're in a pinch, okay!?  That bandolier looking thing across his middle is a pouch...I'm assuming Davy carried 'essentials' in his.  And because we must be all non-violent, he couldn't carry a toy rifle.  Heaven forbid we be authentic if it involves a firearm!

My mother cautioned me that someone at the school is bound to find out that I sew so I lectured the kids and they now know to say Mom doesn't sew, she quilts.  I'm off to clean up my sewing area and start packing for retreat.  If you don't hear from me again, it's because I'm buried under a pile of fallen fabric.

I'm linking up to these nice folks...hop on over to see what other crafty types are up to this week!

Richard Quilts
Confessions of a Fabric Addict
Amy Lou Who
Crazy Mom Quilts

Happy quilting, y'all!

Davy's Mother

I love the infinite optimism of children, especially my children.  Apparently, my son, though perched on the cusp of teenage-dom, still thinks on occasion that I am Wonder Woman and can perform any task set before me especially when there's a time crunch involved.  He's known, for several weeks now, about an upcoming history project in which he had to pick and dress up as an American hero.  You see where I'm going with this, right?

Now, if I had been Davy Crockett's mother, Id've told him to go out, trap a raccoon and make his own damn coonskin cap, thank you very much.  Davy was a resourceful chap and he had that gun, after all.  Not so with my boy so he turned to Dear Mother whose only sewing involves quilts, not wearable fashions of any kind.  See my previous post here.  But Seth, ever optimistic, informed me Monday afternoon that he'd be dressing the part on Friday.  Yes, I said Monday and Friday...two days in the same week.  No pressure.  Did I mention I have a fulltime job, also?

After several helpful hints from co-workers about my options (disemboweling a toy stuffed raccoon was my personal favorite, but given the plethora of roadkill around here getting hold of the real deal wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility) I headed to my local JoAnn's for fake fur.  This is what I came up with...

Now, before you go calling me the village idiot, I'd like to point out that I am aware raccoons aren't blond.  I offered to tint it up a bit, but he pronounced it 'perfect'.  Besides, I'm talking pre-teen boy here so we'll just go with the flow, shall we.  Despite the fact he's been sick for two days, his face lit up, he was so excited.  Or maybe that's just 'cause his nose is glowing red from sneezing so much.  At any rate, the hat is done.  I've still got fringe to attach to his shirt.  DH snottily informed me that Davy Crockett DID NOT WEAR CHAMBRAY!  I retorted that it was laundry day and he'd damn well wear what the Missus gave him and he'd LIKE IT!  I found some moccasins (Walmart house slippers...whohoo!) and he's all set for Friday.

What are you up to this fine Wednesday?  Me, I'm linking up to WIP Wednesday at Freshly Pieced.

Happy hunting quilting, y'all!

BOO-YAH!

Time to brag just a little bit...

Co-Defendant #1 placed 2nd in Listening Skills in the private schools UIL competition today!

Yes, you read that right, a male of the species won a ribbon for his listening skills.  I will save the ribbon forever and eternity if only to show it to his future bride!  He is waaay proud of himself and actually asked that I show his smiling face.

WAY TO GO, BIG GUY!!!

Spring Break Finish

Whew, I made it!  Another Spring Break successfully completed without parental meltdown or trip to the local emergency room...I am The Mominator!  (For some reason this doesn't bring to mind Arnold as the Terminator, but rather Dom DeLuise in Gumball Rally...can you tell what DH likes to watch?)  In betwixt train ride, zoo, movie and endless in-and-out-the-backdoor-trips (I'm considering in all seriousness a revolving door to the backyard), I still managed to get a lot of sewing and crafty stuff accomplished this week.

And yes, I kept a tally...did you doubt it?

* Ten quilt backs cut/pieced

* Two New York Beauty blocks made

* One quilt top completed

* Two kids doors decorated...what, you thought their names really were Co-Defendant #1 and #2?

* Two sojourns to quilt shops...screw that New Year's resolution!

And all without benefit of Xanax or alcohol...but a heckuva lot of chocolate and caffeine.  Damn I'm good!

I'm linking to crazymomquilts, Whoop Whoop Friday, and amylouwhosews.

Happy quilting, y'all!

Fort Worth Zoo And A Quilt Shop, Too

DH drove the family to the Fort Worth Zoo yesterday as part of our Spring Break adventures.  How do people drive, day in and day out, in traffic like that?  Makes me grateful we live in a smaller community and don't have to deal with all that, although DH says five o'clock is a nightmare...eek!

Anyway, I'll spare you pictures of the animals (I mean, how many different shots of lions, tigers, and zebras can one person possibly stand?).  And let's just say amor was in the air for the inhabitants.  I haven't covered the kids' eyes that much since the last scary movie we watched!  But I will show you pics of my sweet family...yes, contrary to what I may occasionally lead you to believe, they are relatively sweet individuals.


Co-Def #2 riding the carousel



#2 and I on the Yellow Rose



DH and Co-Def #1 enjoying the train ride back to the entrance

I love the last picture...the chick in the background has that deer-in-the-headlights expression..bless her heart!

DH topped off the day by braving the metallic honking masses to get me, his sweet darling bride, to a quilt shop.  I assured him he could take the Co-Defendants elsewhere to avoid the dreaded I'm bored, but he assured me with traffic like that, he wasn't budging!  It was the worst 45 minutes of his life ;)  Thank goodness I didn't take any longer or medical intervention may have been necessary!

Happy Thursday, y'all!

Spring Break Here We Come!

My grandmother had a poem on her refrigerator that went like this...

Spring has sprung,
The grass has 'ris.
I wonder where
The flowers is?

Guess you have to be a redneck to appreciate the grammer, but I always liked it. 

Spring is definitely making itself felt here and while the rain has cleared out, it's left our backyard nice and swampy...which means no Spring Break camping for Mom and the Co-Defendants...double YAY BOO!  But the good Lord has blessed us with wonderful sunshine and warmer temperatures so we aren't complaining.  Well, Mom's not.

Dear Hubby will be off work a few days to be with us this week and we have exciting things planned, but nothing like last year...what was I thinking!  My folks are taking the Co-Defs on a train ride and I'll have a few hours to myself.  I'll try to cope.  Really, I will.  Heehee!!  I'm NOT jumping up and down and doing my happy dance.

#1 has already abandoned his sister and I to spend the day model-railroading with Papa...you know, we girls just aren't cool.  #2 helped me measure all the quilt tops I've completed so far this year.  EGAD!!  Do I ever need to get a move-on and get those babies quilted!

She's modeling the 36-patch quilt-along top I completed waaaay back.  Check out Amanda Jean's site Crazy Mom Quilts for all the details.

Happy Spring quilting, y'all!

Thankful Thursday: Co-Defendant Style

I rushed through the front door this afternoon to hear the teacher's voice leaving a message on our answering machine.  Oh, the unbridled joy!  I quickly snatched up the phone, sat down and said with resignation 'I'm here...what's going on'.  Yes, I have a PhD in Scholastic Interpersonal Relationships.  Does this make me a crappy mother that I expect the worst, or what? 

The voice on the other end cheerfully (dare I say she chirped) explained that it was good news...didn't all parents like to get good news? she asked.  Well, heck yes, but it's just never been in regard to one of my kids.

She used words like conscientious, good listener, role model, mature.  You know, words that have heretofore never applied to my son.  I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the 'however...' but it never came.  I replayed what was on the answering machine to him when he got home.  It rated a smirk and a grunt.  (Insert twirled finger and 'big whoo' uttered in a thoroughly bored tone here)

Apparently, he's growing up (fist pump and sniffle) and she just wanted to let me know how well he was doing.


HOOOOOOOOO-RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! 

Report Cards: Quilting and Otherwise

I had to take a break from that dang airplane quilt that seems to have taken over my sewing corner, quilting time and life in general.  I don't ever want to see another plane after it's done!

Mom and I attended our quilting bee The Happy Stitchers last night.  I haven't been in forever...'Who are you again?' was a question I heard quite frequently and it was nice to catch up with the ladies.  I got this quilt top that's been languishing as a WIP for an eternity finished up...

You may recognize the pinwheels as being from my Thangles stage.  You know, the one where I lost my mind and sewed strip after strip of the little buggers.  I still have two baby quilts to make out of the remainder.  The fabric is Love U by Deb Strain...it's all nature and owls and makes me want to go out and hug a tree.

Yesterday was also Report Card Day (cue the dramatic music and nail-biting suspense).  I am happy to report that they will both live.  Co-Defendant #1 has come a loooong way in the academics department and is doing great.  Take that, you snarky naysayers..he can make farting noises and good grades at the same time!  He had an awesome down-the-court dribble and couple of free-throw shots at last night's basketball game as well.  Co-Def #2, although academically gifted is, in the words of my beloved Nana, developing her personality.  In English, this means she's a ringtailed tooter and believes rules are for others.  I see a future in politics or the law for her.

It's cold outside and I really should be cleaning my house....nah, I'm gonna link up to Can I Get a Whoop Whoop and Finish It Up Friday!

Happy quilting, y'all!

Of Progress and Razzberries

It's not been a very productive week quilting-wise, but for whatever it's worth...here 'tis.

Now, before you go and say 'Stephanie, you showed us that picture last week!' I'd like to point out that last week all the rows weren't sewn together and the remainder of red border hadn't been sewn on.  Perhaps I'm splitting hairs here but cut a girl some slack!  The other twenty plane blocks are finished and now it's on to the borders.  Al-most there...

On the home front, the dog's gotten her spring bath (it's 81 degrees today-yippeee!) and the school has let it be known that Co-Defendant #1 makes some fairly awesome awful, horrid, disgusting fart noises with his mouth that will not be tolerated in this establishment!  I'm just glad he hasn't taken up biting the head off kittens or something, you know, REALLY offensive.  Mind you, his class is made up entirely of boys.  Hey, maybe they could form a barbershop quartet...throw in a few armpit farts and I bet they could bring the house down with their enthusiastic rendition of My Country 'Tis of Thee! 

To channel my inner Charlie Brown...oh, good grief!

I'm doing the link-up thing with freshly pieced's WIP Wednesday...happy quilting, y'all!

Take A Deep Cleansing Breath

At least that's what I'm telling myself, but it doesn't seem to be working as well as I'd like.  They can push the buttons, can't they?  Oh sorry, I'm referring to children here not anything even remotely quilting.  If it were a quilt, I could take out my angst by ripping out seams like the Incredible Hulk ripping his way out of his shirt.  Maybe that Tommy Jordan guy of YouTube fame had the right idea when he plugged his ungrateful daughter's laptop full of 45 caliber slugs.  Grrrrr!!

Co-Def #1 is on the cusp of teenage-dom and there're days when I'm fairly certain I should've eaten him at birth.  Today he informed his father and I that he's 'tired of being a slave'...we asked him (brace yourselves) to please put out the place settings for dinner.  Quick, someone alert CPS!  Wrong thing to say especially since I'm PMSing all over the place and packing enough hormones to level a third-world dictatorship.  But, I digress.

This post is actually about action, not words.  Every parent gets a tad, ahem, aggravated with the offspring and we wind up griping to our friends (or perfect strangers....thanks blog readers!) and nothing really gets done.  Not so this time.  Last week I finished up a mountain of laundry and doled out the parcels to the various family members with instructions to put 'em up where they belong.  To an adult (and my daughter) this is a fairly clear and simple task. 

Three days later, I found the neatly folded clothes in the bottom of #1's hamper, covered by dirty socks and boxers.  Picture steam coming out the ears of a cartoon character and you've got an idea of what I looked like.  Did I yell?  I think not.  Did I plot?  You bet your heinie!  I very calmly approached him, drummed up my cheeriest tone (side note here: if a Texas girl is talking to you with a cheery tone of voice and you know good and well she's mad, you should run like heck 'cause she is plotting her revenge) and said Guess what...Mom's gonna teach you something fuuuuuunnnnn!  His eyes twinkled as he contemplated what delights might be in store, silly silly boy, when I singsonged I'm gonna teach you how to do your own laundry!  

HEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!

Behold...

He folds...

He grouses...

He collapses in a heap...

If this makes me one of those Mean Moms, may I revel in it because dammit I'm tired of fishing dirty boxer shorts out from under the bed and wadded up sweatsocks that made their way through both the washing machine and dryer only to come out a smelly sodden mess because he's too 'busy' to be of a little help.  I'm not your friend, your maid or your banker.  I'm your Mama and as Ms. Aretha says R-E-S-P-E-C-T find out what it means to me!