While I generally love summer, there is one problem with it. The kids get the idea that they’re having a break from school and extrapolate that they get a break from everything. I had it with T.R.’s room today, so I picked up all the Legos and made the bed and dealt with all the wrappers and dirty laundry. He is going to be mad.
On the plus side, he won’t be mad at me for at least a week or so because when next I see him, I’ll be picking him up from his dad’s house for a trip to Tahoe. I’ll get to enjoy the fact that I can walk in there on the actual floor and not a bunch of precious, fragile, and vicious Lego creations for all the days between now and when he’s next here.
I will patiently explain that I gave him lots of chances to deal with the disaster on his own in small doses that wouldn’t hurt too much. He will still be mad. I’ll live with it because—this just in—I’m the mom and sometimes I get to have things my way.
Extra bonus points: no ants will come attack the remains of T.R.’s kettle corn.