This afternoon Lily wanted tea.
I didn’t really object to Lily having tea. I mean, it’s tea. What’s not to like? I’d even boiled the water. (For other purposes.)
But if Lily has tea, Wyatt and Rory have to have tea too.
And while Lily is kinda sorta capable of cleaning up the sugar she will spill, and putting the mug and spoon in the dishwwaher, Rory and Wyatt are less so. (Actually Rory is really good at the dishwasher. But she spills sugar.)
And they use mugs. And spoons. And I emptied the dishwasher twice today. I just couldn’t do it.
I know, I know, your kids empty your dishwasher. And wipe the counter. And don’t put sugar in their tea. But you are a much better parent than I am. Mine…don’t.
Result: Lily, who asked, got a mug of this weird Thai hot coffee mix she likes, and no one else got anything. There was much whining, but they survived.
My recollection of life as an only child was that I pretty much always got tea, but I really wanted a sister.
I drank tea frequently with my mom because when my father died and my siblings had moved out of the house, it was just the 2 of us from my being 7 until I was 14 when I got the “sister” you wanted (but I hadn’t asked for) in the form of a friend I’d known from kindergarten who had a crappy homelife. I stopped drinking hot tea for years (I live on iced tea year round) but have started drinking hot tea again because it brings memories of my mom (who is alive but suffers from dementia and is in a nursing home). I haven’t tried Thai coffee but I tried Thai ice tea at a local restaurant – I love Thai food but won’t be drinking the tea again.
While I might put on a bit of the martyr show, my kids have been spoiled by my doing things for them. I pretty much take the same approach as my own mother – they’re kids for a short time. They have a lifetime of taking care of themselves ahead of them.
It’s not always, but often. I’m home. They’re at school all day.
I learned how to cook and clean and all the rest of it and so will mine.
I’m sure yours will, too, so I didn’t judge you. I’m right there with you. And what’s not to love about tea!
My kid doesn’t empty the dishwasher. I am the dishwasher. He drains me, though. Does that count?