FFA Topic of the Week: What is your least favorite thing about being a grownup?
Well, for one thing, I hate having to clean up other people’s messes. You know, it's bad enough when you're a kid and you have to clean up your own toys, but when you're an adult (especially a parent), suddenly you're responsible for cleaning up all sorts of varied (but invariably unpleasant) things. Kid gets sick -- you're the one scrubbing throw-up out of the carpet. Baby gets into the vaseline and smears it all over herself, the couch, and the carpet -- yep, you guessed it. You're the one trying desperately to find something (anything) that will get Vaseline out of carpet and a baby's hair (Marley looked like a greaseball for a week.)
Well, for one thing, I hate having to clean up other people’s messes. You know, it's bad enough when you're a kid and you have to clean up your own toys, but when you're an adult (especially a parent), suddenly you're responsible for cleaning up all sorts of varied (but invariably unpleasant) things. Kid gets sick -- you're the one scrubbing throw-up out of the carpet. Baby gets into the vaseline and smears it all over herself, the couch, and the carpet -- yep, you guessed it. You're the one trying desperately to find something (anything) that will get Vaseline out of carpet and a baby's hair (Marley looked like a greaseball for a week.)
Case in point: Marley and Lucy wanted to help me bring in the groceries earlier this week. I'm not one to argue free labor, so I let them. Naturally, Marley first grabs a gallon of milk and starts lugging it into the house. "Hey!" I say. "Isn't that a little heavy for you?"
"Nope. I'm really strong. I can carry it, see?" So, I figure, "I guess she is really strong." Marley carries the milk in and comes back outside for another one. This gallon, however, only manages to make it just inside the door when I hear a crash and an "Oops!"
I rush inside to see the aforementioned gallon of milk broken on the floor and seeping milk everywhere, cleverly spraying shoes, the walls, and part of a chair. What's better is that Marley and Lucy both grab rags and rush to start cleaning it up, only to spread milk even more by stepping in it and tracking it all over. Thanks, kids.
The evidence I submit below only shows about half of what was spilled. I didn't think to take the pictures until I had already sopped up the biggest puddle.
But another thing I resent about being an adult is being tired all the time. I want to say this all started with the onset of motherhood but I can distinctly remember being tired through most of my college career. I even had my favorite places all over campus to take a quick nap between classes . . . under a stairwell, on a couch in a lobby full of other students, the library, or sometimes just on the floor somewhere where I meant to be studying. Before you start thinking this is strange (and, I’ll admit it, slightly pathetic) behavior to just sack out on the floor somewhere in public, go take a tour of BYU campus. I can guarantee that I was not the only one.
But maybe I'm only saying this because I'm so tired right now.
7 comments:
Speaking of tired and BYU, I recently just trekked up the south hill by the ducks and about died. I was totally embarassed as I looked around and noticed no one else panting and barely breathing! Now I know, they make it to the top, curl up somewhere and sleep it off!
This post adds a whole new meaning to "don't cry over spilled milk". I think I would...I think I have!
No one else was panting? What is suddenly everyone in shape at BYU? I distinctly remember being near death every time I scaled that mountain...of course, that could be because I was always late and running....
Did you make the girls lick it up? That'll teach 'em!
Well, I really wanted to start wailing when I saw it, but Marley looked so stricken and upset, that I just couldn't do it. I kept telling myself, "She was just trying to help, she was just trying to help." Although, they probably wouldn't have been adverse to the licking . . .
And are you kidding about no one panting up the hill (ANY hill) at BYU? I always felt like I was going to pass out going up that thing. Although, I did always try to act like I was breathing normally, which is fairly hard to do when your heart rate is at 180.
I used to sleep ANYWHERE I could find a secluded spot. And I hate to admit it, but those bathroom couches were nice.
Was this my post? I feel like I could have written the exact same thing. Change Marley and Lucy to Caleb and Camille, make the liquid Koolaid or honey or something else that is sticky when it spills and this is my life! Only instead of sleeping on a couch under the stairs, I used to nap on the subway train as I traveled in Boston during my college years - a riskier place to nap considering all of the truly crazy (and crazy looking) individuals that also rode the train! But I got good at it - before long I could close my eyes as soon as I sat down and would open them just in time to get off at my stop. I only missed my stop once. Not bad in two years of subway sleeping!
Thanks for sharing this funny post! Here's wishing you lots of spill-free days before the next crisis hits!
Okay, over achiever. Way to have an FFA post that is both funny AND easy to relate to. I haven't read Jenni's or Carillisa's yet, but you've outdone me and we're fighting.
I must say, though, I think Jack would appreciate that he made your blog! Woo hoo!
Amanda, what's so funny about your comment is that Ellis rides the train to and from work, and he actually has fallen asleep and missed his stop! Poor guy -- he's had to walk home from one or two stops over, and clearly, not during one of his most energetic moments.
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