Category Archives: home

The Christmas ducks

Ever since I bought my Christmas ducks a few years ago, the teenage boy has taken it upon himself to hide the three ducklings and mom somewhere in my kitchen. As you can see from the picture one of my ducklings is missing.

Christmas ducks

It is my job to find the ducks, and put them back on the counter where they rightly belong during the Christmas season. I never know when he is going to make them disappear and it drives me crazy. The other day when I noticed them missing and the teenage boy was out, I sent him a text. This was our conversation (note: Offensive language).

Mom: Where are my ducks?
Teenage boy: Hidden.
Mom: Damn you.
Teenage boy: Ha Ha.
Mom: They better be in the kitchen somewhere?
Teenage boy: Mhm.
Mom: They better be in the kitchen, those are the rules.
Teenage boy: They are.
Mom: Damn you. I have looked and looked.
Teenage boy: I’m not giving you any hints.
Mom: Damn you. You are making me grey very fast.
Teenage boy: You’re 51. I don’t think it’s me.
Mom: You are in deep shit for that comment.
Teenage boy: Maybe I’ll buy you hair dye and a walker for Christmas. The nursing home at Sackville gives free tours.
Mom: I don’t know how to respond to that.
Teenage boy: Preferably without anymore profanity.
Mom: Fuck, fuck, and fuck.

How I tried to go on strike and failed

During the school year there are three people living in my house because the girls are away at college/university. When the school year ends for them they move back home, and well to be honest, all hell breaks loose because we now have four adults, the teenage boy and two dogs in the house (I blogged about this earlier When the students move back home for the summer).

Our house is more than large enough for everyone, but we still have to learn to live together again and this is proving to be difficult some days. Five people means more dirty dishes, yucky bathrooms, loads of laundry (okay, the girls do their own laundry most days), and just plain dust & dirt. Now I don’t ask for much, most days I will make dinner, some days I need help, other days my husband will cook if I am not well. It is the kids responsibility to wash, and put away dishes after supper and during the day if need be. The teenage boy usually cleans bathrooms and vacuums for me on the weekends while I grocery shop and do laundry (he gets to drive the car without paying for gas). The eldest goes away each weekend, during the week she works 7am to 3pm, and will referee soccer games in the evenings. Thus she doesn’t do dishes most days. Middle child also referee’s soccer most nights, and occasionally works on Saturdays. If she is in a good mood she will help around the house.  My husband works a full-time shift work job and does loads around the house to boot. He picks up doggie poop, sorts garbage and recycling each week, cuts the lawn, cleans the pool, fixes stuff around the house, cooks dinner and washes dishes too much.

Thus yesterday I cracked! There was a pile of dishes on the counter, and not one of my children offered to help me with dinner (it was only chicken burgers, but you still had to cut up onions, cheese, hot peppers, etc.). Thus I decided to go on strike, I would not even arrange the dirty dishes, something my husband does on a regular basis, and boy did they pile up. The teenage boy left right after supper to go to a friend’s house, and the girls well nothing. Hours went by, my husband kept stating that he could handle the mess, he is OCD and a mess in the kitchen is his worst enemy. Me, I could care less, I could hold out for days, we have lots of plates, forks, knives, and I had planned to use them all. Then my husband couldn’t take it any longer, he cracked, he got up and did the dishes, was I mad at him, you betcha. Probably one of the stupidest arguments ever, I was mad because he cleaned, and so mad that I slept on the couch last night. He was stunned. I don’t think the teenage boy was even aware of the argument since he was out all evening, the girls, well they know I am angry, but they said/did nothing.

Later, my husband said I could go on strike but I would have to choose not to protest using dishes, he just couldn’t handle the mess. So I guess I will let the dust pile up (this is my enemy, but I am strong), or I could stop feeding them. Will they care, probably not, they will just make themselves something and leave the mess. Maybe I could put a lock on the fridge?