I went into the bathroom today (don’t worry, I’m not going there), and on the floor were a dirty pair of tights and underwear of the princess variety. No, they weren’t mine. I don’t go for the princess undies.
I got upset. I muttered to myself “why can’t these girls help me out? Why can’t they put their dirty clothes in the dirty clothes hamper? Why must they get undressed in three rooms and their clothes be all over the three rooms?” I begrudgingly pick them up and put them in the dirty clothes.
Then, I go into my room. And, I see exactly why they can’t pick up their clothes. There on the floor? My pajamas from the night before. I don’t consider them dirty and will wear them a couple nights. And, the clothes from the suitcase that I never unpacked from last week.
The girls don’t know this. All they know is that they see my clothes on the floor.
Great example, right?
And just the other night, our oldest told Mr. Serious “Daddy, your room is dirty!”
What’s funny is they totally don’t see their room as dirty!
Their shoes and shoe rack right at the back door that we come in and leave out of…they can never find their shoes.
Hmmm…and my shoe rack. Notice the shoe behind the door, too. (Yes, please tell me how sad you are for our closet. We share that tiny thing…my side is just as small as his side which is showing).
When #1 was first born and about 2 seconds old, Mr. Serious said “Let the hypocrisy begin!” The midwife and nurses thought this was hilarious. I found it a little odd. I would think “welcome to the world” or “I love you” might be a little more appropriate (yes, he did say those things first).
But in all honesty? It’s totally the truth. It’s a sad, sad truth, but the truth.
(Excuse me while I go clean my room. Who am I kidding…I’m not going to clean up. I’m going to shower and to bed!)