Okay, so we all know that another word for ‘mother’ is ‘slave.’ This all-encompassing servant hood starts seconds after birth, and as far as I can tell, continues indefinitely. I’ve almost given up on ever being free and have transferred my energies to trying to make my task masters slightly more polite about their demands.
This is sort of weird, though. A typical demand goes like this: “MOM! Get me milk!” To which I respond in a calm and almost sing-song voice, “Mommy, will you get me some milk please?” See, I’m modeling how I want them to ask. But more often than not, the response I get is just “Please.’ Hey, it’s a step in the right direction. I’m also constantly finding myself saying “Yes, ma’am” to myself. Wow! I have such good manners.
Anyway, recently I’ve attempted to train the lords of the house to walk with their indentured slave into stores, church, and the Y instead of running ahead of me. Naturally, bribery was part of the equation. Hey folks, it works! I kept two baggies and a box of tokens in the car with me, and each time the princes walked with me and held my hand all the way into the building, they earned a token. When they earned twenty, they got a Lego set.
Today was Lego day, so we went to Target, and they each got to pick a set. We’ve graduated to big boy Legos which, as you know, opens up all kinds of possibilities, particularly for the Star Wars obsessed.
After a busy day of running errands, we came home with Legos (and without chocolate syrup. Darn, I forgot!) All I wanted was to lay on the couch and contemplate why shopping and driving doesn’t count as an exercise routine, but the two masters had different plans. "Mommy the Lego Slave! "
I put together a semi truck, a race car, and an impossibly complicated Star Wars spaceship complete with a laser shooting mechanism that nearly brought me to tears. As I’m writing, Chunky just brought me said ship which naturally fell apart again. Luckily, Dad is finally home and, as an engineer, actually studied this stinking spaceship design in college. “You’re turn, Honey.”
So Legos are a blessing and a curse. They get results in the behavior department, but put a crick in my neck and make my fingers hurt. I think the slave needs some time off for a manicure.
Christian Fiction Scavenger Hunt Stop #8
1 year ago
4 comments:
Haha, I know how you feel. I am the everything slave. And if your kids are anything like mine, well, the legos end up on the floor where some unsuspecting victim steps on them in the middle of the night on the way to the bathroom. If not picked up, ultimatly they end up being sucked away by the vaccum, or lost into the pit of no return.
Michelle
Lego makes its own distinct sound going into the vacuum cleaner.
But the instructions get easier to follow with practice. My then-six-year-old had to do the first one for me, but after that I learned to help.
Save your sanity -- don't buy the other brands of "Lego-alikes". They may look cool but they don't stick together as well.
My youngest is almost 12, and sometimes he still lets me help build a new Bionicle model. If I ask nicely and remember to say please!
Lego makes its own unique sound as it goes into the vacuum cleaner!
The instructions get easier to follow with practice. But save yourself stress -- don't buy any of the "Lego-alike" brands. They don't stick together as well.
My youngest is almost 12, and he still lets me help him put together the occasional Bionicle model, if I ask nicely -- and say please.
Oh girlfriend, I'm feelin' your pain. At least you CAN put together a spaceship! I'm LEGO challenged. And I have not one, but two LEGO fiends in my house. One is two, the other forty-two.
I don't know who gets more excited in the LEGO store - Kyle or John. Mr. Budget melts away the moment he crosses the threshold, eyes devouring the eventual move from DUPLO to "real" LEGOs.
My poor arches can testify to the LEGO assault on my home. Those QUATRO things can do some serious damage to a foot!
But, I'd rather have the Boog obsessed with LEGOs than video games and TV.
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