This post isn't for the faint of heart. It's gross. It's honest. Maybe you should skip it, or better yet just scroll down to the comment section, give me an internet ((hug)), and I'll think you've really read it and care a lot, and you'll spare yourself a few minutes that could be spent doing other things like picking your toenails or pickling raspberries. But please, not in that order.
So here I am going to the bathroom. I have six children and the worst bladder known to mankind. In our house, we let it mellow if it's yellow and if it's brown we flush it down. Otherwise, even our $90 per month water bill would be much higher. Mind you, YES, we flush before company arrives. And YES, we wash our hands every time. But if Old Mom is just going to go to the bathroom in 15 minutes, there's no need to waste a gallon of water EVERY time. Just from a money and conservation standpoint.
I exit the bathroom to find standing RIGHT THERE one of G's friends. And he goes to the bathroom, no doubt realizing what hicks we are that we don't even flush. Uggh. I'm in the process of getting all embarrassed about this until I realize that he doesn't wash his hands after using the bathroom.
Suddenly my "not flushing" habit isn't so bad, comparatively speaking.
G tells me right in front of Q that Dad says his friend Q can stay over until churchtime if I say it's ok.
I have some choices. Q has walked about a mile to get here from his house and it would be rude for me to turn him away. I feel more than a little put-upon because if I say NO, I'll either look like a meanie or I'll have to embarrass G by listing the 47 in maths, the detention, the blowups that have been going on, and oh, everything else he did in the last week that isn't flattering as an explanation.
So I said yes. This one time.
Here it's after 5 p.m. which basically means G has invited his friend to dinner. I'm NOT getting bunches of stuff out and cooking it when church starts at 6:30. Macaroni and cheese, three boxes. Voila. I've put some on S's tray and in Woodjie's bowl to cool.
Q comes to the table and sneers at S's food because it's congealed. Yeah, like I'm going to serve her stuff right from the pot and burn her? Guess not, he says.
So I've served the meal and about five times I've caught Q doing that *barf* thing by sticking his tongue out when he thinks I'm not looking. I am mad at G for not stopping it right then the first time. And you know, ordinarily I offer guests some sort of choice, but when you arrive at dinner and expect to be fed, you get what you get. Finally I had to tell him to quit it, and the kid tries to LIE TO ME by saying he was just doing some other move he was practicing... whatever. But keep your moves to yourself at the table. I'm smouldering angry at this kid.
After dinner, he STILL didn't wash his hands. Then Patrick got mad at him for touching his stuff without washing his hands. So he finally did. And this kid said "dang" a bunch of times, which I found rather shocking. He didn't seem to censor himself very well, but D says he probably WAS censoring himself and "dang" is more acceptable. I think it's all in how you say it. D also says that you know, compared to a lot of other kids, this guy isn't so bad. And he's right. I mean, I LIKED this kid until yesterday's *barf* thing at the table. Maybe I take that too personally, but dang. (LOL just checking to see if you're reading. Don't forget the "hug" later.)
I'm fuming. I know I should say something. But I'm one of those people who is nice, nice, nice, nice and BOOOOOOOOOM. The problem is I'm not good at speaking up before BOOOOM happens. Other people go, wow, what's her problem? It was ok before and it isn't now?? Huh?
Well, not much time before the older boys walked to church. But before Q left, he went to the bathroom again. And he didn't wash his hands! Iwwww.
I'm baby-wiping stuff all over now. That just icks me out. I shouldn't be surprised, though, as Patrick has been complaining for several years that children at school do not wash their hands after using the restroom or before eating. It really bothers him. I've never seen a boy more meticulous about stuff like that, which is surprising considering the state of his room.
The whole time those boys were gone, I was hoppin' mad. Hoppin' mad. Angry. Furious. That G is so nasty to me and he NEVER listens and I can NEVER say anything to him because he ALWAYS blows up. I can't STAND how no one EVER listens to me or appreciates me.
Finally, they get home and I'm gonna let G have it. You know the position you put me in by bringing a friend over... and this is why... and this is how I feel about it... I went through everything in my post and how upset I was about it. And do you know what he said?
"Yes, ma'am. I'll try to remember that next time. I'm sorry."
Ok, I was just waiting for him to yell at me so I'd have somebody to yell at back. And he didn't. He genuinely apologized. Now I'm all frustrated and angry and have nobody to take it out on. He even meekly accepted the idea that we should ALWAYS pre-arrange our friends coming over, most particularly right before dinner. !???!!??
I wonder how long this will last, but I can be glad that it's lasting while it does. I'm still feeling very, very angry, though.