Don't Ask Why

Every once in a while, part of my brain must feel I don't suffer enough, and so I venture into my children's room to help with the upkeep.  That part of my mind (secretly masochist) is never disappointed.   I suppose I should feel grateful, otherwise that gremlin in my subconscious would force me to exercise.

Today, I found my middle son sleeping on his bed on his pillows with no pillow cases.  I know there were cases on them yesterday.  They're not there today.  I'm pretty sure he ate them in his sleep.  I'm considering buying organic ones so that if he is consuming them, at least he'll be getting some fiber in the process.

You're probably thinking "Sherry, you're overreacting. Come on, it's a pillow case."  I would agree, if this were the first, second, third, or even possibly the fifteenth time.  But I have a history with this child. We make the bed.  We talk about how it should look.  Almost every morning, it does not look that way.  Most notably, the pillow cases are awol.  Sometimes I find them.  Some are still missing. I've not yet resorted to a hidden camera to discover what happened, but that time may come.

Moving to another son's room, I opened the closet.  Perhaps an ill considered move, but it did explain where the case of 35 water bottles I bought yesterday went.  The kid is a runner so I get needing hydration, but to hide them in his closet so as to prevent all others from infringing on his water rights smacks of a type of corporate mentality I don't favor.  So I'm leaving a note for the lad, and a tall plastic cup in his closet.   "You have a sink.  You have a cup.  You have unlimited water at your fingertips.  Don't go Nestle on me.  Love, Mom."

Lest you think I only pounce on the boys, or that the girls are less challenging, my youngest owns three pairs of shoes.  We only have the left one of each of them.  I have searched.  I've resolved not to buy new shoes until we've explored every option, for I know the moment I come home with new footwear, all the old shall reveal itself and I'll be torn between returning said shoes and now having another pair she can lose.

Another girl thinks water other than from the pool, will result in a Wicked Witch of the West type melting.  "I took a shower yesterday." is her favorite explanation of why today, she should be exempted.  Worse, others are starting to take up her call. "Save the water. Save the laundry.  I don't need it." Granted, that would leave more water for the hoarder son to drink, but still.  I've created a check box next to her (and all the others I have to trust but verify) to ensure next to Godliness is maintained.

Parenting is about sacrifice, continuing on, and loving when what you really want to ask over and over again, and maybe get an answer, is "Why?"

Why do they leave towels and clothing on the floor NEXT to the laundry basket provided for receiving them?

Why do they cut open an watermelon and scoop out a perfect sphere of fruit from the middle?

Who bit through the bar of cheese?

How can the ones who need naps never sleep and the ones who theoretically are youthful and full of energy require 17 hours of rest a day?

What makes it okay to always save the ends of the bread for my sandwich?

Why does doing the dishes mean leaving the pots and pans for me?

These questions go unanswered, even if asked.

It has taken twenty-two years of experience to come to the understanding behind all of it.   It came as a result of my daughter's shopping spree. She'd explained she needed some things.  I agreed.  I gave her a budget, a credit card and dropped her off at the mall.  Two hours later, she came back with bags.  She'd eaten in the food court, picked up some headphones and bought perfume.

"Did you get what you needed?"

She'd forgotten.
The answer is simple.  Don't ask why. They're not holding out on us. They don't know.