Getting Schooled By Your Kids

Yesterday, I got handed a couple of life lessons that leave you all misty-eyed and feeling pleased as punch that you've lived another day to see the sun rise.

No, the IRS did not realize the error of their ways, apologize, and declare our case just one big misunderstanding.

No, we did not win the $232 Bajillion Powerball Lottery because we live in Arkansas where gambling is against the law. Can't even find a decent bingo house.

No, I didn't wake up thin and fit with perky boobs because that would involve extensive plastic surgery and gobs of money, which I don't have because the IRS knows where I live and I can't buy a freaking lotto ticket in this town.

Anyway...

Man child was concerned because his job had called demanding that he hurry in for a "chat". He was nervous. Past experience had conditioned him to believe that nothing good ever came of these impromptu conversations. Consequently, he fretted and racked his brain trying to remember if he had committed some sort of transgression that would require a face to face with his owner.

I had nothing for him. Nada. I tried to think of something appropriate for the situation and the best advice I came up with was to brush his teeth before he left figuring that no matter what happened, it couldn't hurt to have fresh breath. (A shining example of one of my finer parental moments.) As it turned out, man child received a promotion and the realization hit me that it really is the right time for man child to leave the nest.
_______________________________________________

Before leaving for work yesterday morning, I'd taken a large piece of paper and penciled, "EMPTY THE DISHWASHER" in block letters because the boys will not do a lick of housework unless they are asked. It drives me MENTAL.

So, before ending our morning call, I asked man child if the dishwasher was emptied. He confirmed that it was.

"Thank you," I said.

"I didn't do it," he replied.

"Oh. Is Dylan up already?" Negative. Still sound asleep.

"Well, who unloaded the thing?" I asked, completely perplexed.

Olivia.

Really? My baby?

Apparently so. And she did a fine job. Everything was put away in its place. When questioned, she was very matter-of-fact stating that she had just followed the instructions on my note.

I read somewhere once that as parents, we should refrain from doing for our children what they can do for themselves. I've embraced that theory and often been criticized for expecting too much of my kids. And even though it was only the small act of unloading a dishwasher, I was bursting with pride at Liv's initiative. Dishwasher today, maybe med school tomorrow. Hey, I know it's a stretch but it still left me all warm and fuzzy.