So...it's been a bit of a frustrating week teaching. Nothing terribly bad, just fidgety and talkative kids who can't seem to understand what "look and listen" means.
That brings me to this afternoon. Took James to karate. Went to the library to get a couple of books I've been wanting. On the way home from the library, Chris called for an early pickup from track. Seems they aren't as diligent about running in the rain as they say they are. ;-) Picked him up and went home. It's raining--still. Got everyone inside. Got Larry out of his cage and walked him in the back yard. He wasn't sure he really wanted to go because, of course, it's raining. So I stood out there, under my umbrella, watching him "do his business" - both kinds - then brought him back in the house. Went to the mailbox. :::note to self: put mailbox key on your keyring::: Finally took myself to the bathroom. By this time, it's 5:00 and I need to pick up James. Did that. Came home and decided to get myself a Diet Coke and a spoonful of chocolate icing. Just a little pick-me-up before I tackle dinner. Opened my Coke and set it on the end table. Larry jumped on the couch and knocked it over with his tail. DC goes all over the floor and my pant leg.
It was a much bigger spill than the picture. But I didn't take an actual picture and this was the best I could find. (Can you believe you can find a picture of a spilled Diet Coke on Google? Go figure!) It was all over the floor and under the chair. At least we have laminate.I yelled. I yelled a not very nice word. Twice. Really loud. James was asking me a question at the time and John was at the table doing his homework. Oops. So (and this is kinda funny now--not so much at the time) I picked up the can and threw it in the sink--really hard. I almost threw the dish remote, but thought better of it and smacked it down on the counter. Then I threw my spoon of icing across the kitchen. Boy...that's anger when you'll actually throw chocolate! Then I stormed into my bedroom and slammed the door. I stormed into my bathroom and slammed that door. Then I slammed the closet door for good measure. (Yeah, I'm a door-slammer. Sue me.)
So I stood in my bedroom fuming. Then I realized that the chocolate was on the floor and the dog would probably eat it and get sick and then I'd really be in a world of hurt. I left the sanctuary of my bathroom to come out and pick up my chocolate spoon. Cleaned up that mess.
But what really bugged me about the whole thing was James sitting on the couch watching TV. Huge puddle of DC on the floor next to him. How many messes of his have I cleaned up? 100,000 at least. My passive/aggressiveness got the better of me. As I got paper towels and such I said, "Thanks so much for all the help in cleaning up the mess." He continued to stare at the TV. I said, a bit more forcefully, "That was sarcasm in case you missed it." James: "Ok." AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!! That was it. I'm done.
I told them they were on their own for the night. They can get their own dinner--I don't care. They can clean up their mess because no one bothered to help me clean up a mess (that I didn't make in the first place but I can't really expect Larry to clean it up--though I guess he could've licked it all up for me. Ew.) So there.
Now...did I really get to stay in my self-imposed exile. Of course not. I tried. I really tried. But Chris had to go to mutual. John needed help with his homework. Unfortunately, I wasn't a very good example tonight. I'll do better tomorrow. I think they'll be going to bed early tonight. Wish I could.
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