Sometimes my little “men” pretend to be incompetent so they can get out of doing stuff. This starts very young ladies, so watch it, they’re tricky. My seven-year-old got up this morning and said, “I’m hungry.”
To which I replied, “Hello Hungry, I’m Mom.”
He wasn’t amused. He obviously wanted me to meet his need and make him something for breakfast. And, in mornings of yester-year, before I became completely overwhelmed with 5 sons, I would have jumped right up, dropped what I was doing and made the boy a decent breakfast.
But, I am older and wiser than I was a decade ago. So I told my little one that he was perfectly able and welcome to decide what he wanted to eat, make it and eat it.
He tried again, “But mom, you’re closer to the freezer.” I knew he wanted waffles. I had just been to Sam’s club and we had a huge box of them.
“Yes, I know that, but I am one person and there are seven people living here, so if I make everyone’s breakfast, I’ll be popping waffles into the toaster all morning.”
He got out the waffles and the sugar-free Mrs. Buttersworth (sugar makes him shoot off like a firecracker, so we are avoiding it) and he made his breakfast.
But men don’t give up that easily so he tried again.
He came to me with his plate of syrup saturated waffles and he asked me to cut them. I told him that he was perfectly able and welcome to get a knife and cut his waffles and eat them.
That was the end of the battle. It was a hard-fought mental war, but I felt the nod went to mom on that one.
Later in the day, I asked my 16-year-old son Luke to clean the pool filter, which is about a 20 minute process of shutting off valves, opening up the filter, rinsing off components and replacing it all. It does require some training, but he had done it before and I was sure that he was quite able to complete the task.
He started the process and I no sooner got back into the house and the back door swung open and Luke bellowed, “Maaaaaaaaaaaaam!!!!”
Side note: Before my boys could talk, I couldn’t wait for them to say Ma Ma and all five of them said da da first, which totally ticked me off. Now, they say Mom, Mommy, Maaaaaaaaaam, Hey Mom, Where’s Mom, I’m telling Mom CONSTANTLY. It never ends. They rarely, if ever, go to dad with their stuff. They’ll call me on my cell to tell me something that is happening in the living room with my hubby planted on the couch; but they’re little “men” so they know that he’s there, but not really. His body is there, but his mind….nope.
So anyway, Luke comes in and can’t figure out the filter. And then the light bulb goes on. I shake my head with my eyes squinted slightly and lips forming a sly grin, “Ah Ha,” I say to my beloved son. “I’ve got you figured out. You want me to think that you can’t do this task so that I will just do it for you. Well, cowboy, I’ve seen you disassemble and reassemble a paint ball gun in 2 minutes flat, so this filter right here is your project and by golly, you will figure out how to do this.”
And, in the end, he did and I feel that I have made great strides in ensuring my survival among all this testosterone!