Dear Family,
Greetings, my beloved ones. It’s your devoted matriarch here—the one who finds your missing items, the queen of matching socks, and the diligent cleaner who tirelessly scrubs the floors after you traipse in mud and other mysterious remnants, all while you seem blissfully unaware of the chaos you create.
Just last night, I witnessed you consume a peanut M&M that had been resting on our car floor since Halloween, yet you deemed my lovingly prepared semi-homemade dinner unworthy, opting instead to smother it in ranch dressing while I sat right there.
So, here’s a thought: tonight, as I savor this delightful glass of wine, I’m convinced you can prepare your own dinner. How about a classic PB&J? Go ahead and go wild with the jam! Just remember to clean up after yourselves, alright?
In this house, there’s a simple rule: if you make a mess, you clean it up. I know you can remember this, especially considering you haven’t forgotten that birthday five years ago when I couldn’t find that Lego set you wanted, despite my exhaustive search.
I do these things out of love because that’s what we do for those we care about—we strive to bring joy. So, do me a favor and locate your own shoes!
If you find me behind a closed bathroom door, in our bedroom, or engaged in conversation with your father, that’s not the moment to inquire about chips. A quick look in the pantry would solve that dilemma.
It seems you think my hobbies revolve around handling your bodily functions—specifically, your urine, as you consistently leave it in the same spots for my enjoyment. Spoiler alert: I do not enjoy it. If you happen to miss the toilet, the responsibility falls on you to clean it up. It’s not a masterpiece; it’s a mess that needs addressing.
I’m beginning to suspect you relish the sound of my voice raised in frustration. You seem to invite it by ignoring my requests until I’ve repeated them twenty times, sounding like a broken record. Yes, when pushed to that point, things can get a bit wild.
I’ve noticed your eye-rolls when I’m at my wits’ end. You’ve even said, “OK, calm down, Mom,” but there would be no need for calming if you could simply do the basic tasks, like putting on pants for school. Why do you need a step-by-step guide for that?
And when you ask me about your sweatshirt, honestly, I have no idea. My brain is packed with thoughts about getting everyone from basketball practice to the dentist in record time because rescheduling is not an option. But here’s the deal: if your sweatshirt isn’t on you, it should be in your drawer or the hamper. I’d wager it’s either balled up under your bed or left in the car, which are decidedly not appropriate homes for a sweatshirt.
If the trash can is overflowing with coffee grounds and banana peels, a kind gesture would be to take it out instead of telling me how every time you throw something away, you gag a little.
So, please, pull your own weight—find your socks, stop staring into the fridge asking about blueberry yogurt that’s practically in your face. You are more than capable of handling these things without needing my help. Before you ask about something, consider if you can figure it out on your own. If you do, you might just witness a transformation as I morph into the most patient version of myself.
Thank you for your attention,
Your loving mother.
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Summary
This article humorously addresses the importance of self-sufficiency in a family setting. The author, a mother, emphasizes that her family can handle simple tasks independently, from preparing meals to cleaning up messes. With a blend of frustration and love, she urges her family to take responsibility for their actions and become more self-reliant.
Keyphrase: Family Self-Sufficiency
Tags: “home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”