I married a wonderful man but a very messy man, he is. This defect of character is a learned one and was instilled at an early age. He is number nine of ten children and as you can imagine by the ninth child, a parent could give a rats ass about a trail of destruction left in a youth’s wake. Besides, that’s when the maid earned her keep. Then there was college and who in their right mind cleaned up after themselves in college, especially if you were a dude? Add to that a few other messy roommates and you’ve got a situation for OSHA. Since I have full knowledge of this condition, I have begun grooming Willem in a different direction and I’ll be damned if it’s not working! W and I practice putting things back when he’s done with them and that’s gone rather smoothly. He’s a big help when unloading the dishwasher and dryer (little guy practically crawls in there to retrieve socks), too. Just the other day, he returned about 50 multi-colored straws to the plastic container they came in and tried to reach the countertop to put it back. Two more feet in height and he would’ve succeeded. This morning while the Hubs and I were getting ready to leave the house, W started pulling things off of the bedside table on dada’s side and handing them to him…a guitar pic, a pen, eye drops, etc. This was a little trying for the Hubs who doesn’t like to put things away on his own and was being forced by a 16.5 month old to do so. His thank yous grew from genuine appreciation to more and more stern. W picked up a dirty black sock and offered it up. It was then that the Hubs figured out how to make this little exercise work in his favor. He showed W the dirty clothes hamper and the rest is toddler history. Before long, dada’s side of the room was clear of clothing debris and the Hubs didn’t have to pick up a stitch. W did the work for him so guess what? My side of the bed is next!
In other news, the Hubs is making it harder and harder for me and some of my parental friends to watch certain children’s programming. His interpretations of them are concerning, to say the least. Although I have never watched Clifford the Big Red Dog, I’m certain that I will never do so, thanks to the Hubs. He pointed out that this little red puppy becomes a giant red dog when a little girl climbs up on its back. Envision…interpret…retreat!
"Dear Hubs, Step away from the PBS."
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