Friday, March 23, 2012

This is motherhood. And it is disgusting.

So I go into Bean's room to put something on his dresser as I'm cleaning up the rest of the house.  I generally just try to keep my eyes directly in front of me in there so I can avoid Duplo-related injuries to the soles of my feet.  It is a mess of Duplos, random papers, toy airplanes, knight and Viking figurines, etc.  And it's not my job to clean it up.  That is a responsibility I have delegated to Bean himself, and to The Beast.  Supposedly they do it nightly or close to it.  I now have my doubts.

I got to the dresser and noticed some sort of brown staining in a round shape.  Something was obscuring it, so I picked that something up.  I still had no idea what had left the brown ring.  Too large to be a coffee mug...too small to be one of our bowls...

I was looking around at everything on the dresser when I finally looked down at what was in my hand.

A plastic container from our co-op's deli.  With residue of who-knows-what and many dead larvae-of-some-sort inside.  (They were smaller than maggots.  Fruit flies, perhaps?)

Dearest Smart, Thoughtful, Wonderful, Clean-But-Not-Tidy Husband,
   Please change something about the way you are cleaning up that room.  My recommendation:  not just the floor.

P.S. I showed it to Bean and explained where it had come from.  I showed him the dresser.  His response was "can I go back to playing now?"  I said, "have you learned anything?"  He went through the motions of a "yes can I go back and play now?"  So I said, "sure.  After you clean your room." 

"I'm going back to bed," he said as he heaved a sigh.

"Ok.  Take a nap.  Then clean your room.  Then you can play."

P.P.S.  He is really angry now. I just went in and asked why, exactly, he was screaming and crying (he started off silent and sullen) and he wiped his eyes, took deep breaths, collected himself and said venomously, "leave me alone!"  Toddlerhood/preschoolerdom as the first adolescence, indeed.

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