Saturday, July 7, 2007

Swept Away

There are plenty of times, like for instance now, when I say to myself I can not do this. Mancub came back from our two hour trip to see the remodeled Boys and Girls Club and then to go out to eat yet another damn hamburger from yet another damn hamburger joint that I seriously can't afford financially, ethically, or physically but that I seem to always end up at in an effort to win his favor only to plop in the recliner and ask if he could watch another episode of Family Guy.

Have you done your chores?, I asked knowing the answer and trying to keep the veins in my forehead from rising. What chores?, which was the wrong answer since we have been asking him daily to do the ones on the daily, weekly and monthly lists that are posted on the kitchen wall. Papa Seed says those lists aren't really working out he says. Or, he has the nerve to say.

That is because you aren't doing your jobs. Clearly stating the obvious. He doesn't have time. I asked why they couldn't be done this morning. Because he didn't wake up until two. Why not then. Because he was watching Family Guy (I was out with the dogs making sure they got some exercise).

Then there is the issue of the broken PSP and trying to find the warranty which I guess is something that Papa Seed had been helping him with and had placed in a file someplace that only one person knows about. Frankly, I think the PSP is the Devil's Tool and needs to be burned in the fire along with a certain 'tude. The PSP is the Linus' security blanket for Mancub, this I know and try to cut him some slack for it, but I'm over the isolation toys and gadgets.

The idea of taking even a fraction of one of my two days off to go to a place like Best Buys is bone chilling. That I would dare consider it, had the file been uncovered it, is a tremendous gift that will go unappreciated.

He has been sulking in the squeaky recliner. I think I just heard the dustpan hit to floor. Sweeping is one of the chores on his list. Now I hear chairs being moved about. I got through this without yelling or swearing and with only one slightly inapproprate comment about going on a cooking and shopping strike since the chore list isn't really working out. This time I'm the one shut away in my room with headphones on. When it is over, I'll suggest we sit down and watch Family Guy together. I'll let out a huge sigh the first time there is a penis joke (two minutes into the show I'm betting) and he will look over at me and chuckle.


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