9-20-02, Side Streets, Kimra Traynor Herb
I Hate Being a Grown Up
By Kimra Traynor Herb
IPS Features
Sometimes
I just hate being a grown-up. Like, when the toilet clogs, the boys come running
to me: "Mom! The toilet is overflowing! All I did was FLUSH it!" For a
moment, I will wonder to myself, "Why are they telling this bit of horrible
news to ME? Why don't they go find a grown-up quick, to help them?" And
then it will dawn on me, with horror...... the grown-up IS me!!! Horror of
horrors; they expect ME to do something about the overflowing toilet! And so it
is that I grab the plunger, a roll of paper towels, a bottle of bleach and run
to the bathroom praying that it is not a worse-case scenario. Which of course,
it always is. The whole time I am de-clogging, plunging, cleaning and finally
disinfecting, I am stewing over the fact that God went and made me a grown-up
when I wasn't looking. Back when I was a kid, coveting the job description of
grown-up, I never realized it came with such an odious work load.
My
boys also like to come with me with such information as: "Something gross
and brown is in our bathroom sink." Which, translated means: "Please
come clean up the gross and brown something from our bathroom sink." I
usually grab my Comet, a sponge, and a stiff upper lip and head off to see what
is lurking behind bathroom door #3. My husband has a different approach. The way
he figures it, the boys themselves will one day be grown-ups, and he doesn't
want them unprepared for the disgusting jobs which await them. "Well,"
he will say, when faced with a particularly unappealing fact presented from the
boys, "what are you waiting for! Go get the Comet, a sponge and get to
work!"
The first time
he did this, my oldest son was about twelve. He always gets to slack the
longest, because, as the oldest, I tend to baby him a lot. Meanwhile, his little
brother was probably scrubbing out the bathtub at the age of two. Anyway, he had
come to us with a complaint about, what else, pee on the toilet. "Someone
didn't put the lid up!" He fussed, and then looked at me pointedly.
"Why are
you looking at your mother?" My husband responded. "Go get some paper
towels, some Lysol cleaner and clean it up! It was probably you! And if it
wasn't; you have probably done it in the past and your mother has cleaned it
up."
"ME?"
My son gulped. "But......but..... I am just a kid!"
"A kid who
needs to know how to clean up after himself!" My husband shot back, handing
him a roll of paper towels. "Now, go!"
As my son was
stalking off with his cleaning supplies, I was torn with guilt and conflicting
feelings. On one hand, I was glad I didn't have to clean up the pee. On the
other hand.....well, it was a nasty job and I didn't want MY BABY to have to be
subject to such a horrific task. I said as much to my hubby. "I think I
should go help him." I finally said, springing to my feet.
"You'll do
no such thing." My husband replied. "Those boys need to know how to
clean up after themselves."
"But there
are GERMS!" I shout. I am now desperate with my mother need to protect, at
all cost (even if it means putting on the ole grown-up shoes for a while) my son
from the possibility of being germed.
"Then he'll
wash his hands afterwards." My husband answered.
Unlike me, my
husband has always been a grown-up. This is one of the things that attracted me
to him, right from the start. He has never fussed about unclogging a toilet,
cleaning up a disgusting mess, or even squishing the most odious bug. It is his
goal in life to produce three men who follow in his footsteps and who provide
great grown-up leadership skills to the rest of us poor kids in grown-up
clothing who are always looking around for help when someone throws up.
As for me, there
is little hope that I will soon realize that I AM grown-up and jump right to my
more disgusting responsibilities with less reluctance.
And speaking of
grown up disgusting tasks, right now, even as I write this, there is a a sink
full of dirty dishes with my name on them, waiting to be washed. Or maybe that's
not my name at all...... maybe it is one of my son's names....... after all,
it's never too soon for them to start acting like a grown up.