Wednesday, May 15, 2024

Freudian slips: Dishwashing edition (and a cake story for dessert)

We were finishing up dinner this evening...relatively late...because we had things like swimming and music lessons...and we were reminding the kids about their "dinner jobs." One child is in charge of clearing the table, one child is in charge of doing the dishes, one child is in charge of tidying up the floors, and one child is in charge of taking care of the cat (and garbage, if needed). Alexander helps out here and there or helps keep Phoebe entertained and out of the way. 

It sounds like a well-oiled machine, doesn't it? 

After all, we're pretty experienced parents now. We have systems and things like that...

Alas, systems are always better in theory than they are in practice (at least from our experience), so it really works like a rusty, piece-of-junk machine. 

But it's working (I guess), so that's all that matters.

Anyway, we have this long-running joke at our house that it's a good thing we ever ask our children to do anything, otherwise their poor little bladders would explode. Because there's nothing to remind you to use the toilet like a good ol' chore assignment. 

I feel like this is a pretty standard ploy used by children across time and space. 

Usually they like to keep their potty motivations private, as if the adults in their life were never children who used the same tactics to evade their duties. But tonight Benjamin said the quiet part out loud. 

When we reminded him that he needed to start loading the dishwasher he announced, "I...just need to go pee first."

"Ooooooh," we said in mock surprise (we've been down this road before). 

"No!" he objected. "It's not like that! I just like to go pee before doing the I don't have to do the dishes!"

"That was perfect!" Andrew laughed.

"Somebody call Freud!" Miriam hollered (she took Intro to Psychology this year). 

We all had a pretty good laugh while Benjamin...stewed in the bathroom.

"What I meant," he said upon his return.

"We know what you meant," we said, still laughing.

"I don't think you do!" he insisted. "I just meant that..."

"You like to go pee before doing the dishes so that you don't have to go pee while you're doing the dishes," I said. 

"Uh...yes...exactly...that...that is what I meant."

"That is what your brain is telling you is a logical excuse, but your subconscious knows—and I think you know it on a conscious-level to some degree as well—that you are really doing it to procrastinate starting your chore."

"Huh," Benjamin said, his shoulders slumping. 

Don't worry. We've all be there, kid. 


In other news, Rachel made a red velvet cake tonight (just because she wanted to) and the kids were eating their pieces after dinner (but before chores). When Phoebe got her slice of cake she quickly licked/ate all the icing off the top first thing. 

"What?!" she then exclaimed, holding up her plate as irrefutable evidence. "Mine cate has no icing!"

"Oh, no!" I said. "Rachel! Her piece of cake has no icing!"

"What?" Rachel said. "How? Oh."

We told Phoebe to just eat her piece of cake, but she continued to be sad, sad, sad, so I asked Rachel if she would just scrape a little icing off and put it on top of Phoebe's cake. So Rachel scraped some icing off of the cake (I was expecting her to, like, scrape the side of the pan) and plopped a dollop on top of Phoebe's cake. 

I handed the plate back to Phoebe, who gasped and said, "Taint'oo so much!"

And then she whispered to me with no small amount of awe, "Rachie fixed mine own cake!"

And then she glowered at Rachel and whined, "But this just a little dot icing!"

She went through quite a lot of emotions over that little piece of cake and the privilege of getting an extra "dot" of icing.

And then—because we're mean parents—we made the kids start on their "dinner jobs."

No comments:

Post a Comment