Saturday, April 12, 2014

Falling Apples

Fridays are Home Ec days at the PBA.

Granted, I don't call it that, because I fear that the PBA will rail against the stigma: "That's for girls."

Yes, in spite of our homeschool status, I know full-well that boys are required to take Home Ec and girls are required to take Shop in public schools...but still. Let's be honest: there's still a stigma.

But since I am teaching the PBA to either be a) self-sufficient, or b) helpful husbands, or c) a combination thereof, there is no getting around Home Ec.

I am fairly certain I have told you this previously, but I apparently feel that it bears repeating.

And for now the Home Ec mostly entails cleaning...of course that has NOTHING to do with the fact that I hate to clean. (And this is cheap labor.)

Almost as much as I hate to cook.

Neither of which you would necessarily know based on my blog b/c I post stuff about cleaning and cooking...but you may know if you actually READ my posts. Because I have complained about mentioned it more than once.

I do this (the posting...not the complaining about mentioning) because I make the assumption that there are some of you out there who detest these things to the same degree as me, and therefore if I think it is a little life-hack or at the very least a good (yet easy and time-worthy) recipe, I take the time to share.

But I digress.

In the cleaning, I try to make sure they give the same attention to detail that I do (or at the very least SOME attention to detail); par example (a teeny, tiny French lesson for you; this means "for example" but I am certain you recall this from past usage on my part...or at least from your high school etymology class, right?): cleaning out the gook from the hinges on the toilet seat...I still don't understand how this happens. For crying out loud...can "we" not aim?

I know; it's the universal cry from women around the world...continung to not make a difference after 6,000+ years.

But this is one of SEVERAL things to which I try to get them to take notice. And retain. And (dare to dream?!?) copy.

It's a process. That's my mantra. "It's a process. Hmmmmmm." (Visual aide note: envision a person meditating, with legs crossed and eyes closed...that's not what I do but it's how I envision that sentence.)

And within said process, however, there are sometimes additional, unexpected benefits: when they copy your words (and here I'm not talking explicitly about the ones which slipped out in an "Ugly Mommy Moment" and you wish you could shove them all back inside your mouth.)

No, no, I'm talking about words that will only serve to benefit.

Like yesterday, my heart went pitter-patter when I heard my 11yo tell my 12yo: "Don't you use that bathroom! I just cleaned it! Use one that hasn't been cleaned yet!"

Oh, those apples don't always fall so far from the trees.

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  1. All bathrooms should have a urinal that is built like a tall funnel. It would have to be adjustable in height, and then the males of the household can just flop their junk there and do their business and not get pee EVERYWHERE. You'd seriously think every one of them was marking territory every single time they avail themselves of the facilities, wouldn't you?

    Call it Family and Consumer Sciences. That's what it is in our school district.Throw "science" in there and fool 'em.

  2. Oh my...I had to laugh because rarely do I look at toilet hinges, but just the other day I found myself suddenly disgusted by them and decided to tackle them. I eventually gave up. At this point I would need a complete tool kit with old toothbrushes, pipe cleaners, and an army of Qtips to really get the job done. Gross!