Thursday, November 4, 2010

You want to what??

"Mom, I want to clean the basement."

"Mom... MOM??  You ok?"

Yeah. Sure.  I'll be fine once I check my hearing and put an ice pack on my head. Maybe I'll keep dreaming long enough for the basement LOOK clean!   Obviously that statement came from B, not Monster Man, but he's grudgingly down there making a slight effort to help. His effort seemed to improve after I heard B remind him, "This is your stuff too! You need to help! Do you want your stuff to go in the trash? Hmmm?? You'd better get these train tracks picked up!!" 
"FINE!'  he grumbled and growled as I heard wooden Thomas tracks being thrown angrily into the track box.   He must have moved on from tracks to cooking as I heard, "Where did the kitchen set go?"
B asks, 'The one we sold at the yard sale?"
"What yard sale?"
"The yard sale in summer..."
"I do NOT remember that- where is the kitchen set?! I NEED an oven!!"
So Monster Man tromps up the stairs to ask me. I told him yes, we got rid of it this past summer.
"But I still played with that!"
"Dude, it's been gone over 4 months and you JUST now noticed??"
He tromps down the stairs, "FINE. I won't bake anything today...or ever AGAIN!" 
How quickly he forgets that just yesterday under the couch was a perfect Play-Doh cookie oven... :-D

Both of them are still working, an hour later, intermittently arguing and yelling at each other.  I'm not too concerned with light arguing.  I do fuss at them about getting along, but nothing they've done is even in the ballpark to the extreme fighting my sisters and I did.  I have too many battle scars to count.  The items broken around our house growing up was of epic proportion- including each other.  I'm sure there isn't a school friend or boyfriend that doesn't remember one sister in particular hurling a drinking glass/shoe/hairspray can/ book/etc at our heads...or being chased around our house with a knife, broom or tennis racket.  Ironically, not matter how big the fight, one hint that mom was on the way home or a relative was pulling up, we all jumped high-gear into clean-up mode like nothing ever happened...the battle would continue another day.

Anyway, I believe I still hear progress in the basement. I'll take whatever I can get-- I'm not going down there unless I hear a skull smash or see blood splatter coming up the stairs. 

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