You know, I’ve just figured out why I have no energy for anything creative right now. It’s because I’m using all my juice trying to be nice, figuring out how to cope with hubby’s grown sons who have moved back in. Neither are employed. Both eat like you can’t believe. * They love my expensive liquor cabinet.
One was here just for a short time last week, but he’s coming back (third time in six weeks) for four days this week. The other’s been here a little over a month, and will be leaving town this coming Sunday if the stars stay aligned.
I can’t decide how much energy to expend training them. Seems like I need to get behavior I can live with from them if they’re going to be her more than a day or two. But how many times do I need to say “Don’t put your dirty dishes in the sink! Put them in the dishwasher.” I’M NOT YOUR MOTHER AND DO NOT WANT TO CLEAN UP AFTER YOU. I haven’t gone that far, but it’s coming. I should post a sign by the sink. We have one like it at work. “Unless your mother works here, clean up after yourself. ” 🙂 I don’t *want* to train them. I don’t want children here. Grandchildren to spoil, yes. Children to train, no.
Also, is it my job to teach men in their 20’s not to pee on the toilet seat and the floor around it? Maybe they’re being passive aggressive. This WAS their house, once upon a time. I don’t care what the reason for it is … there ISN’T any reason for it. It grosses me out.
Okay, I’ve vented a tiny bit. Only 5 more days.
*My own (grown) son is picky as hell and barely eats enough to keep a bird alive and never has done anything else. That’s what I’m used to, so hubby’s boys have been a shock to the system.
2 thoughts on “Relatives and Fish”
I feel for you honey.
On the pee issue, buy little floating bullseye targets. This will make it fun for them to pee “in” the toilet! It’s supposed to work for little boys anyway.
Try the sign at the kitchen sink. You really should NOT have to train them.
This too shall pass.
24 and 21 = too old for floating bullseyes fergawdsake.
I think it’s just the younger one, anyway.
The older one is not bad, he’s just weird and in my house and under my feet and in my face in an altogether mellow yet profoundly annoying way.
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