Buried Treasure

(scene opens in surprisingly clean parlor)

Me: (looks up from typing) Gamma, what are you doing?

Gamma: (fiddling at the charging station in the corner) Putting on Delta’s fitbit.

Me: You can’t wear his Fitbit. Where’s yours?

Gamma: I don’t know.

Me: Go check under your bed.

Gamma: It’s not there. I cleaned my whole room. It’s missing.

Me: Uh-huh.

Gamma: It is! I looked everywhere! Can I have the tablet so I can talk to my friends now?

Me: (rises with resignation) Lets check the state of your room first.

(scene changes to mostly clean kid’s room)

Me: Where’d everything go?

Gamma: (kicks drawer under the bed) In here. That’s what it’s for, right?

Me: Uh, no. (tests drawer, stuck finally gets it open, over filled with kid stuff and trash) We’re going to have to go through that. (peeks under bed) Gamma? Look under the bed?

Gamma: (crouches down and looks under bed) Oh. My fitbit.

Me: (with deep Maternal I Told You So) Huh. Imagine that. Who could have known. Oh and look, there are the library books you couldn’t find.

Gamma: (sheepish) I’ll get the broom. Then I can have the tablet?

Me: Yes. Hand me the Fitbit, I’ll go charge it.

Inter-office Memo

(scene opens at the top of the stairs, furniture pushed onto the landing)

Me: What is this?

Gamma: (briskly exiting her room) I’m just doing a bit of cleaning.

Me: (somewhere between shock and confusion)

Gamma: (hands over a clipboard) I’ve come to some decisions about what I want my room to look like.

(camera cuts to clipboard)

Me: Uh, okay.

Gamma: You probably should talk it over with dad.

Me: Sure. I’ll do that. (slowly backs away, exits scene)

Life Lessons

(montage of setting the Bigs to tasks, finding them half finished, calling them back)

Me: (standing in dinning room, pointing) So. Those dinning room chairs you were going to put back around the table after you vaccum?

(cut to one chair at table, rest in the parlor)

Beta: (sheepishly) Oh. Yeah right.

Me: You guys need to be boomerangs. Come back to me. Not arrows and stick where you land.

Alpha: We’re Wal*Mart boomerangs.

Me: No. Strive to be top shelf boomerangs.

Alpha: We’re made in China. Not well made. (heads upstairs)

Me: (calls up after) You were most definitely not made in China. You were made in the U.S. It means you’re too expensive and no one will buy you!

Time Capsule

Me: (frazzled in the door of Gamma’s room) Okay, for the last time, pick up all. the. books and put them on. the. shelf. There are twelves books on the floor and it has taken you (checks watch) five hours to avoid picking them up.

Gamma: But it’s boring.

Me: You know what makes it less boring> Putting all the books on the shelf in five minutes or less.

(Beta walks up behind, taps Carrot on shoulder, hands her a bag of scout badges)

Me: (stares dumbfounded) I oughta pinch you. These are Webelo badges.

Beta: Yeah? So?

Me: It means they’ve been sitting in a drawer or under your bed since fifth grade! That’s how long its been since you cleaned where ever you found these!

Beta: Yeah, well, I’m about half way done on the drawers.

Me: (hyperventilating)

Into the Wild

(scene opens in packed camp Trading Post, girls filling arms with last minute camp swag)

Me: (standing patiently in line) Did you have a fun week? Glad for it to be over?

Gamma: How long until I can be a CIT?

Me: Oh. That’s high school level Girl Scouts. (starts to stroke daughter’s hair) You’ll have to wa… Gamma, did you shower at all this week?

(mom behind in line with similarly grungy daughter starts laughing)

Gamma: (sighs) Yes, mama.

Me: (horrified amusement) Your hair is…crunchy.

Gamma: (eye roll and sass) Mom. It’s camp.

(more laughter from behind)

Me: (concedes point) I was probably flexible with my shower schedule at camp too.

Being Helpy

(scene opens at tossed dining room)

Me: (absently eating a bowl of diced chicken while reading)
Delta: Mommy, I want. (pulls on bowl)
Me: Okay. (holds bowl down for him to take a piece)
Delta: No mommy. I want. (pulls bowl)
Me: (considers last five pieces) Okay, you can have it.
Delta: Thank you. (wanders off)

(Off screen, the sound of the garbage lid)

Me: Delta! Did you just throw away my lunch?!
Delta: (proudly) I help! (puts dirty bowl back in the cabinet)

Mom Joke

(scene opens in kitchen, packed with family doing a clean)

Alpha: (bags garbage)
Beta: (bags recycling)
Me: (wiping chairs)
Husband: (supervising)
Beta: Should I take this recycling out?
Me: Yes. Take it around town. Take it to a good movie. Maybe a nice dinner.
Beta: Wut?
Husband: I love you so much right now.

I’ll show you weeping angels

(scene opens in empty parlor, deep cleaning in progress)

Me: (sweeping under couch) Gamma! Come here and get your books! (repeat several times, turns to look)
Gamma: (perfectly still, posed on a footstool)
Me: Gamma, come here please.
Gamma: (no response, immobile)
Me: Gamma! (grabs arm)
Gamma: (resists while keeping pose)
Beta: (with derision, from dining room) She says she can’t move while I’m looking at her. (stare intensifies)
Me: (incredulous and with murderous intent) Maybe you could stop looking at her.
Beta: (callously) Fine. (breaks eye contact)
Gamma: (bright and spritely, turns to mother) Did you want something mama?
Me: The tears of the innocent.

Out of Control Thursday

Found myself re-enacting childhood scenarios of making the children quail in table-flipping house cleaning because the mess was a clear indication that we had fallen into barbarism and they were going to grow up living like hoarders thus I had failed them as a parent. All before school. Need to get my Early Childhood Programing in check before I set fire to the bedrooms. If exterior applications of order are meant to quell inner chaos, the problem is within. Coffee first. Then loud music. Then dish washing. The rest will follow.