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The Mother of All Battles
05/07/2010
IconThe Mother of All Battles - Redux By Judy Gruen copy;2003 (For permission to reprint, either online or in print, please send me an email at judy@judygruen.com . Forwarding is most welcome. Permission granted for use on DrLaura.com) I breezed through the kitchen as the kids were in their usual seated positions, wolfing down breakfast and snatching at the berries from other people's bowls. Canvassing the riot of cereal boxes, milk cartons, and lunch fixings mussing up my kitchen, I decided this was as good a time as any to introduce my brand new parenting technique. I cleared my throat and addressed the masses. "Good morning. Beginning today, I will conduct a daily briefing with all of you at 0700 hours to assess the status of Operation House Clean-Up. First, everybody needs to participate in mop-up operations after breakfast. I will also assign you each a reconnaissance mission throughout other areas of the house that are not yet secured from mayhem, dirty school pants, and puzzles half-completed and then abandoned. When these goals are achieved, we will reconnoiter at the van at 0745 to leave for school, most likely joining a long convoy of other vans, so make sure to use the latrine before we exit." "Why are you talking like Donald Rumsfeld?" asked an older child. "What do you have against Rummy?" I asked, feeling defensive. It has given me no end of pleasure in recent weeks to watch this man stare down journalists asking "Are we there yet?" questions about the war. How could anyone fail to admire a guy who wasn't afraid to let journalists know when they were asking stupid or repetitive questions, which was often? I proceeded. "Furthermore, it has come to my attention that episodes of looting have taken place in one of the boys' rooms. Be forewarned that this type of activity will not be tolerated. Perpetrators will be captured and will feel the consequences." "I thought this war was supposed to be about freedom from tyranny," moped another kid who, I had just decided, had been reading too many war articles in the newspaper. "You're taking away our civil liberties! It's our right as kids to make messes and then just get up and leave them." "Look," I explained, "how many resolutions need to be made and then broken before you people know I'm serious? Look at this place! Backpacks all over the floor, homework lying around on the dining room table, empty Corn Pops boxes on the counter. Why, last night I personally witnessed at least a dozen sock-flying sorties in the no-fly zone in the living room. I'm looking for a coalition of the willing to introduce some order here." Then another kid piped up. "What happens if we don't want to join? Do you really intend to go it alone, and force your will on us unilaterally?" "What will happen is that those individuals who fail to join our coalition might find their faces on a pack of playing cards with WANTED notices written under their names, their last known whereabouts, and a reward fortheir capture." "If we agree to join your coalition of the willing, does that mean we can also go without showers for a month, like the Marines in Iraq?" The boy who asked this looked hopeful. "I'll have to refer that question to Central Command, which happens to be me. The answer is No." At this point the kids became quiet, except for the one busily blowing bubbles into his sugary cereal milk with a straw. This seemed to settle the matter for a few days, though I encountered pockets of resistance throughout the house. Some of my recruits had trouble prioritizing. For example, my daughter found it more important to gently wave her hands around outside as her nails dried than to set the table for dinner. And the boys still found playing computer war games more gripping than sorting laundry. Go figure. However, I remain undeterred in my mission. My only fear is that if I get too tough, I might find the kids slapping my photo with their shoes. On the other hand, at least I will have found a way to make them pick up their shoes from the floor in the first place. Judy Gruen is the author of "Till We Eat Again: Confessions of a DietDropout" and " Carpool Tunnel Syndrome: Motherhood as Shuttle Diplomacy "(both from Champion Press). Subscribe to Judy's email humor column at www.judygruen.com . Enter your email on the Newsletter page or write to her at judy@judygruen.com .
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