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October 18, 2007
But it's a mud room
Dudes and Dudettes …
It's been a big couple of days.
I've had a lot of odd stuff at work (though today we had free lunch with ice cream cake served to us by the officers of the company — as much as this makes me sound like a big kid, I really do work at a great place).
And my last two evenings have been action packed. It seems like I've gotten home just in time to cook and then I've been off to football and soccer; and while they are both at the same field, and sort of at the same time, I really need to be there for the 2 1/2 hours that everything is going on. Last night I did some work for the company while I watched the boys (if I know I'm going to get a bit of ice cream cake the next day I'm not put out by kicking in an hour or so of my time for the good of my employer); tonight I read a little bit of Gone on the PDA.
Following sports we've headed home and then I've been doing laundry.
With all of this going on I almost forgot to blog tonight and, up until just now, I didn't think I had anything to say. (But you'll notice it didn't stop me from starting a post.)
Parents will like this.
Non-parents will like it too as they sit back and enjoy their clean floors.
When Haydn took his cleats off tonight he he gave them a toss from the kitchen to the mud/laundry room.
I've told the boys, time and again, not to throw their shoes in the house; things like that lead to marks on the wall.
I reminded Haydn of this and he gave me the 'whattaya mean' face and a verbal "But I didn't hit the wall."
"That's not the point," I said, "You could have hit the wall. And look at the mud!"
"What mud?"
"That mud!" I said pointing to the mud crumbs on the floor.
"That's not from my cleats," he protested.
"It most certainly is!"
"No it's not."
"What about this piece," I asked picking up a big chunk laying as if it had just peeled off the cleat next to it.
"That's old."
"It's still wet!"
"It's from Jack's cleat."
Jack's cleats, I should point out were nowhere to be seen. I'm guessing that had I pressed for further explanation Haydn would have said his cleat had knocked Jack's cleat out of the way, much like those big rocks curlers throw/heave/curl, and that his cleat had fallen in the exact position needed to make it appear that the mud in question had peeled off his shoe.
I didn't feel like pressing the topic. Instead I reached for the broom and dust pan. "Before you climb into the shower I want you to sweep this up."
That was two hours ago.
I just checked Haydn's handiwork as I was reloading the washer (so his football gear will be ready for Saturday). You will not be surprised to find that the broom and dust pan are right where I left them. As is the mud.
I'll make sure he gets it in the morning.
(You know, I should really run Google Ads on this site. I'd make a fortune on the Vasectomy links alone.)
Posted by delmer at October 18, 2007 10:24 PM
Comments
LOL oh man do I remember those days when I lived in Centerville. The mud/laundry room same scenario, full of cleats, shoes, back packs and lord knows what else. Enjoy these days, they will be off to college before you know it.
Posted by: Elaine at October 18, 2007 11:09 PM
Oh yea, the cleats and pads lay among the backpacks.
I make jokes about it now but I'm sure I'll miss the mud when it's gone.
Posted by: delmer at October 18, 2007 11:17 PM
You're a nice Dad, I would have pulled my kid out of bed and had him clean it up .... like I had told them too =)
Posted by: Nancy at October 19, 2007 12:10 AM
hehehe. Reminds me of my daughter. She's nine, and defiant of anything that is "more hard work than school!" hehehe.
Posted by: Sue at October 19, 2007 6:50 AM
I love this, this so familiar to me. 3 of my 4 daughters are already adults, but they are still like this. They bring their dogs over every day and when I complain about the dog hair, they start arguing about whose dog has more hair :)
Thanks for visiting my blog!
Susie
Posted by: Susie at October 19, 2007 8:11 AM
Btw, ignore the email address I used in my prevoius comment. There was a typo in it and another person actually owns it.
Posted by: Susie at October 19, 2007 8:35 AM
Nancy: I'm just a soft touch.
Sue: What I don't understand about my boys is that they think too many things I say are just suggestions or comments that are open for debate.
Susie: Four daughters?! Wow. I'm guessing, though, that if you were ever able to get into a bathroom, it would be clean. My boys are in and out in pretty short order but they're, um, untidy.
Posted by: delmer at October 19, 2007 9:40 AM
Haha, girls aren't tidy. They've got so much stuff; make-up, hair-pieces, clothes and whatever... If I ever get into the bathroom I have to get through all their stuff first.
Posted by: Susie at October 20, 2007 3:06 AM
Did he "get it" in the morning? If not then who? Hmm.
Posted by: Darrell at October 20, 2007 6:48 AM
Susie: OK, but I'll bet they smell better and that you didn't have to remind them to brush their teeth every day. (Each and every day ... how hard is it to remember to brush their teeth?)
Darrell: Yep, he cleaned it up, but I had to remind him to do it. (And brush his teeth.)
Posted by: delmer at October 21, 2007 7:01 PM
Just like my 9 year old daughter...lol...and she thinks what I tell her are only suggestions and that she has the last word always...
Posted by: rino at November 5, 2007 9:10 AM