I will be teaching my son to take out the garbage. He will learn to put the seat down. Put his clothes in the hamper. Put his empty cans and wrappers in the garbage.
He will know how to do a load of laundry. He shall learn to clean up after himself if he sprinkles while he tinkles, and he will most definitely put the toilet seat down. Instead of leaving the wax seal from the milk jug on the counter, he will learn to walk the extra three feet to toss it in the garbage.
My mother-in-law insists that she taught my husband all these things. If that’s true, what happened to him between the ages of twelve and 37 that made him forget? And is it hereditary?
If so, my future daughter-in-law will think I’m a lying liar who lies. And I’ll tell her it’s reversible. It only took three or four years of marriage for my husband’s memories to return.
And I’ll hope she has sons. So I can warn her that she’ll be a lying liar who lies, too.
And on that note, I will await my chewy gooeys. Your turn, Mary!
So, there you have it. The first three non-mommy posts I ever wrote. I hope you enjoyed them!