Uncooperative Kids


    I can fill an entire blog post with all the things my two kids don't want to do.

    I don't want to.

    Yeah. I know.

    You don’t want to take a shower.

    Or wash your coal miner hands.

    You don't want to clean your room. Or help empty the trash.

    You definintely don't want to put the dishes in the dishwasher.

    You don't want to turn off the TV.

    You don’t want to take off the jeans that you have been wearing for five days in a row. You don't want to wear a different pair of pants. You especially don't want to wear the pants that still have the tags on that you said you loved and you would wear.

    You don't want to do your homework.

    You don't want to wear a jacket. Or a hat. Or socks. In general, you don't want to be warm.

    You don't want to put your folded clothes away. Or brush your teeth. Or clean up the toothpaste smudges on the sink.

    You don't want to pee in the toilet bowl. Or clean up the pee that did not make it inside the toilet bowl.

    You don’t want to go to bed. You don’t want to get out of bed. Or make said bed.

    You don't want to eat anything except Goldfish crackers, Oreos and Z Bars.

    You don't want to use a fork. Or a spoon. Or a knife. 

    You don't want your dirty clothing to land inside the hamper.

    You don't want to go to Hebrew school. You don't want to go to regular school.

    Or brush your hair.

    Or practice guitar.

    Or practice drums.

    You don't want to sing in the winter concert. 

    You don’t want to pick up your towel. Or the clothing pile you left outside the shower.

    You don't ever want to use a napkin. 

    Guess what kids?

    I know. 

    And I don’t want to hear it.