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.