Poof! Be Gone! That is what I wish I could say and make the myriads of piles just disappear.
What piles you ask? Well, the piles that magically appear on the family room couch for example. Dirty socks strewn haphazardly across the cushions; boxer shorts lounging languidly sans occupant, empty cheese stick wrappers ruing the day, television remote controls in prime view of Hercules the cat, milk cups with dried drops glued to the innards…the list goes on and on. The fairy godmother has until recently been magically managing these endless piles of stuff and sending the items to their proper home: the laundry room, the recycle bin, the dishwasher. Until today.
This is when the above- mentioned fairy godmother accidentally poisoned (well a slight exaggeration) said Dear Son (DS) by offering the young lad who I must admit is a wee bit under the legal age of drinking and driving – a bit of alcohol-laden chocolate sent to us from some dear friends in Paris. Now I will admit that contained within the package was a note explaining what went to whom. The chocolate package looked like it could have been for DS. So, I opened the package and took out a very innocent looking brown wrapper which DS began to unwrap and stick in his mouth.
“Bleck! Ach...” Cough. Sputter. DS ran to the sink to expectorate contents of his mouth and gulp down water. “Mom, what was that?!” he asked incredulously.
I looked at him, red in the face from coughing. I then looked more closely at the package and realized that although there was indeed chocolate and biscuit in the sweet offering there was also a good deal of liqueur – pear brandy to be exact.
Well, I couldn’t control myself and began to laugh somewhat hysterically while DS recuperated from his brief brush with alcohol. “I am so sorry honey,” I said with my most contrite mom voice.
“Next time I will read the note before assuming anything.” I gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“That would be a good idea Mom,” DS said. “And while you are at it, maybe you could make that box of whatever it is disappear?”
I gave him the sweets intended for him which he promptly devoured.
Now what has any of this to do with poofing? Well, nothing really, except that it got the above mentioned fairy-godmother-of-sorts thinking that she had better enable her DS to fend for himself – from the likes of yours truly proffering candy – and better learn to control his environment- which means starting with limiting the messes. By not creating them.
Or having created a mess- cleaning it up.
Poof! Be Gone!
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