You gotta love ’em

Ok, woke up this morning and yesterday morning with the usual frenzy of activity.  The kids here in Tracy have minimum days on Mondays and what that mean is that they get out of school at 1:30.  I consider the next 4 days as real school and from the actions of my children, I think they do also.  So on Tuesday my 3 charhes wake up as if going to school was a complete surprise to them.  Everyone is moving slow, taking their time, stretching, sitting and staring into mid-air, looking in the refrigerator and just chillin’; as my 12-year-old loves to say.  I allow this  lack of enthusiasm for getting ready to go, go on for about 30 minutes, then I begin the usual morning orders that can sound like questions however they are not. Almost dressed, brush your teeth, make up your bed, pick that off the floor, sign what, no you don’t need to order another book you haven’t read most of what is in the house, take out the garbage, put up the dishes, hurry up, clean your ears, and turn down the music, the tv or your Ipod. My children hear me and at the same time they don’t hear me.  Soon it is time for me to leave for work.  My 15-year-old wants a ride because he has a game after school and doesn’t want to have to ride his bike home at night, my 12-year-old gives me a pencil and tells me to sign his calendar which tells me what homework has to be completed and my 9-year-old is asking me where her backpack is and where her calendar is…I don’t know.  She begins to emit a sound very similar to a high-pitched whine, her lips begin to curl back as if she is a big ole’ wolf getting ready to attach his prey and then she cries, big old crocodile sized tears.  I again state how am I supposed to know where your stuff is, to which she begins the hideously disfigured cry again. I ignore her and begin to get myself ready to go to the office.   I leave. They ride their bikes and get to school. All is well.

The next morning same thing.  Except this morning, my daughter asks yet again if she can order a book from the Scholastic people at school. I tell her that I don’t have enough money and this time I am really, really broke.  I added I have just enough to keep gas in the van.  She is not buying it.  She insists that all grown ups have money.  Silly child!  Anywho, she then tells me what she wants.  I look at it and say if it can wait until Friday I can give you the money.  She said it can’t. So, we are at a standstill.  At this time I remember that she has some money in her wallet and I mention it to her.  She says in her usual I know everything fashion, I know but I don’t want to use my money.  What!!!!??!! Did I hear that correctly? I laughed and told her well if you don’t pay for it, you are not going to get anything.  She wailed. She finally got it as I drove off, that I meant what I said.

I then laughed out loud in the van and I am sure that people driving by, must’ve thought I was certifiable. My children great as they are can be extremely selfish. Oh well, I guess that would be for all children whether good or bad, near or far.  A child, is a child, is a child.

 Yolande Barial
Your Words Project: Speaking on Purpose

Seeks to Enrich the Lives of Women through Spoken and Written Word.

“Through her inspirational writings and spiritual poetry, Yolande Barial empowers women of all ages to be on purpose.”


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