Last week I wrote a post about my 6 year old diva daughter. Well, this week, the “divaness” has transferred over to my 12 year old son. I am sure a lot of what is going on with him is typical, pre-teen boy behavior and the laziness that come along with all of that. That does not make living with him any more pleasant. Maybe some of it is my fault. I try to do what I can to make things easier for him, right up until he starts to take advantage of the situation. I have really been doing a lot for him lately b/c of his broken hand. (He goes to the dr next Wednesday, let’s hope that the cast can come off and he can be re-instated to his position as my
servant..ahem…I mean to do his chores.) So, in my helping him out over the past few weeks with chores, homework, getting his snacks & food that he is normally able to get, he has become increasingly comfortable with ordering me around and depending on me for everything. He is becoming more lazy, if that is even possible.
He wants us to write his math problems out for him, which in and of itself is not that big of a deal, (his teacher is only requiring him to do about a fourth of the problems) until he wants you to do all the problem solving for him! Then he gets mad and says that we are being mean and won’t help him with his homework even though he has a broken hand. He is playing us like cheap fiddles! I keep reminding him that his brain isn’t broken, just his right hand. I have also pointed out to him that he has a perfectly good left hand that he has repeatedly bragged about being able to use better than his right! Sigh. Calgon, take me away!
Wednesday morning it was raining outside and it was kind of chilly out too. I was in the middle of making breakfast for Hannah and packing her lunch. Jon is walking out the door and walks right back in and tells me (not asks) that I have to drive him to school. I asked him why. He said because it was raining. I told him that I couldn’t leave, I was busy making breakfast/lunch and waiting for Emma to be dropped off. Plus, I couldn’t leave his sister alone and she was no where near ready to even attempt to go anywhere. He said, again, that I had to take him. He went on to say that he couldn’t get his cast wet. Okay, put your sweatshirt on, pull up your hood, and put your hand in the front pocket (you know the ones like kangaroo pockets). He says he can’t. WHAT? I told him that they make these things called “Umbrellas” for people to use to keep the rain off of themselves when it is wet outside. I told him to go get his umbrella or get mine out of my car. He refused. Then he proceeded to tell me that it is going to be all my fault when his cast gets ruined from the rain. Sigh. By this time I am counting to 10 (make that 1000). He finally decided to put on his sweatshirt (YAY…his brain does work!) and pull it over his cast and put his hand in the front pocket.
When he came home later on that day his cast was just fine. Guess good ole Mom will get off without being blamed for ruining anything for Jon on that day.