You wouldn't believe the noises I'm listening to as I sit here. Banging, scratching, thumping, dragging...what's above me you ask? The bedroom of our two 11 year-olds. It's not often that I venture much further than their doorway...it's too scary. I'ts like entering into an Edgar Allen Poe story...you're not sure what's going to be there when you open a drawer, pick up a sock, take off the sheets, and have I mentioned the smell?
So yesterday, I said my Hail Mary and took the plunge. Made the beds, straightened up a bit. These ARE things they are supposed to be doing on a daily basis. I don't want you all thinking that I don't hold them accountable, or give them chores, because I do, OH, I DO! Ask them, "does your mom give you chores"? The evil mother/step-mother/witch villanesses in the Disney movies pale in comparison to the desription of me that you would get from them.
The current commotion is them trying to get their mattresses back on their bunkbeds. They took the mattresses off the beds so they could sleep on the floor last night. Why? Someone please tell me why? Now, you moms who have bunkbeds somewhere in the house KNOW my issue...feel my PAIN. Bunkbeds are SO hard to make, and it takes so long to do...it's certainly comperable to 30 minutes on the stair-master (if not longer).
As if that's not enough, I was just handed an essay (our current punishment of choice) that I'm sure one helped the other write....(oh excuse me, Linus has a knife)...ok, I'm back, where was I? Oh yes, the essay. Oh forget it...it's Sunday...I'm going to check on the Corned beef and cabbage that I have slow cooking, and have a beer.