Why?
Because I'm on strike.
If I've cleaned it once, I've cleaned it a million times. I pick up the dishes, turn around, and there are more. The dishwasher only gets emptied when I do it, or when I scream loud enough that someone else will do it. The kids have no concept of piling the dishes neatly by the sink, so the counter is always covered.
My son has the nerve to say "it's not my mess", my daughter tries to pretend she's too cute to help, and my husband thinks because he works full time that he's exempt. Funny that I also work full-time, buy the groceries, do the laundry, vacuum, sweep, mop, dust, pay the bills, change the bed sheets, clean the bathrooms, and pretty much run this shit-show with one hand tied behind my back...but apparently I don't work as much of a "full-time" job as he does so he gets a free pass too.
Last weekend Jeremy had two friends sleep over and thought it was a great idea to have a toothpaste fight in the basement. HUH?! He also thought it was ok to sneak snacks down there resulting in crumbs and cheese squished onto the cement floor. But of course, that wasn't his fault either, it was his friends fault, and conveniently...they were already gone home so they couldn't clean it. I ended up paying Grace and her friend to clean it because I couldn't deal with listening to him whine about it. (My fault, whatever, don't judge me, sometimes it's just easier to do it this way)
They have their fair share of responsibility, but now I'm beginning to realize they definitely do not have enough. The lack of respect and responsibility is quite obvious, and I'm sure it's only going to get worse. So, begins Strike 2012...
I didn't do anything for TWO days...and here's the results:
Notice the toilet paper? Why?! Seriously. I can't keep up, it's like another full-time job.
I was hoping it would only be a day or two before SOMEONE decided to help....
Day three, I come home to Jeremy's friend doing my dishes. This is a child I would totally steal if it was legal to steal children. He's amazing. He has respect. He helps. He understands that if he makes a mess he should clean it.
Apparently he took one look at the place and told Jeremy to get busy. Like a drill sergeant, he had Jeremy drying while he washed. Meanwhile, Jeremy complained about cleaning the mess because it wasn't all his, and blah, blah, blah. He didn't think it was fair, life was horrible, he does enough, I never help him clean up his mess so why should he clean mine. Ungrateful little...
(I think this was the "my life sucks" rant)
The kitchen did eventually get cleaned, not because MY family decided to help, but because the golden-child-i-want-to-be-mine was over for the night.
(I love him)
So my strike shall continue, its clean today...but I don't hold out much hope for tomorrow.
Next up...laundry strike. Yeah...I'm talking to YOU Todd....
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