Monday Morning Madness
To correct an ongoing and very irritating problem, Mr. Schrock stalked upstairs last night and delivered a speech to The Middles that went something like this: “From now on, you guys are going to get dressed and have yourselves ready to head out the door before you get any breakfast. That includes having your shoes on. On, I say. ON!
“Then and only then can you sit down to eat. If you still have time after you’re done eating and brushing your teeth, you can rest on the couch. There will be no more lying around upstairs for any reason unless you are throwing up, bleeding, or otherwise incapacitated.”
This, I admit, is loosely paraphrased, but that was the gist of his remarks to the captive audience just before they drifted off to dreamland.
Boy, was there ever one unhappy constituent. He moaned. He groaned. He argued and dissented. And the more he did, the more I had to laugh. I guess sitting on the register, hunched over a chair to eat his Wheaties in blue jeans, just isn’t as comfortable as parking pajama-clad biscuits on the register to eat his cereal.
They had it coming, though, because they’ve perfected the art of morning dawdling, and their father finally got tired of it and laid down the law.
Man, I love it when the CLEO (Chief Law Enforcement Officer) steps up to the plate and sets things straight. I can’t even count how many ulcers I’ve sprung over this very issue. This one can get me on my broom as fast as anything, believe me.
When he steps in, it takes the heat off of me for once and allows me to play the good guy, plying them with homemade pizza and fresh strawberry pie as I did last night. (Yes, you heard me. Fresh strawberries delivered direct from Florida by my father-in-law and homemade pizza with made-from-scratch crust.) They were, quite literally, eating out of my hand. How nice.
Which leads me to the Quote of the Day.
As I was putting the pizza together last night, I noted that I was running short on pepperoni. Here came Little, reaching for the pepperoni, just ready to dive in, when I stopped him.
“No, I need it for the pizza,” I said to him.
With unerring 3-year-old logic, he replied, “No, Ineed it for my mouth!”
Never a dull moment around here, that’s for sure.