One of the things my kids learned on the cruise was that they do not have to clean up after themselves.
Little Brother was shocked, one morning, to find a plate with toast crusts on one of the staircases. He told me that he would never do anything like that. (Now, that is definitely crossing the line, people. Find a table to put your stuff down!)
Since returning home they seem to have applied the lesson of Someone Else Cleans Up All Messes to our home.
Wrong, bunny breath!
I came downstairs this morning to find a bowl with some lettuce and salad dressing on Little Brother’s “art table” in the family room, and an awful lot of stuff all over the place in there: light sabres, Wii games and controllers, pillows, matchbox cars, marbles and batteries (dead or alive? Someone else gets to test them to find out).
They’re all lucky I didn’t get them out of bed right then and there to pick up this mess.
In the living room I found my paint pens on the coffee table. Middle Sister had borrowed them to embellish her notebooks. I told her that when she was done, she should leave them on my desk. It’s 3 feet from the coffee table, by the way…
The remote for the family-room TV was in the kitchen.
There are going to be some busy children in my house today. I imagine there’s going to be some yelling, and since it’s nice weather, my windows are open.
So I apologize in advance to my neighbors, and even to SFO Girl and Ellen, for what you may hear today. But I’ve had enough of the toast on the stairs.