The boys had their monthly "late start" for school this morning so that their teachers could get a few extra hours of sanity, lest we all want to foot the bill for their psychiatrists if they don't receive this little "me" time.
After they accompanied me to drop off their sister at preschool, we went home to stuff pancakes into our mouths in a fashion not entirely unlike a pack of wolves dining on a fresh kill. Well, that's what they sounded like anyway.
When the pancake-fest was finished, and they were good and hyped on sugar and high fructose corn syrup from the cheap "maple flavored" stuff that I mistakenly bought, they still had an hour to burn before the first bell rang signalling the start of a very short school day so I decided that there were a few things they could do to help out around the house.
hang up their towels . . .
put the cap on the toothpaste . . .
make their beds . . .
load the dishwasher with their sticky breakfast dishes . . .
and pick up all the dirty socks that never seem to find their way to the hamper.
Normally, I would want these tasks completed on a daily basis, BEFORE they leave for school. But the reality of our busy life is that on most days, these things don't get done until they come home simply for the fact that there is so much last minute "goings-on" (like, a permission slip that needs to be signed, or a birthday party invitation that was left in the bottom of a back pack for a week) that need more attention than these chores.
So, I was excited to have their "assistance" so early in the day, and I figured they owed me for all the sugar and carbohydrates I'd just force fed them.
Happily and loudly they got the first few things done, but when it came time for the last task, the picking up of the smelly socks, for some reason this was just too much for them.
"You want me to do what?" Wyatt questioned me.
My answer consisted of something along the lines of I-do-this-every-day-all-day-and-if-you-value-your-young-life-you-will-not-argue!
McRae didn't complain after hearing this.
Instead he decided it would be best handled with a song.
Sung in the tune of "Eye of the Tiger":
Socks, socks, socks!
Socks, socks, socks!
Socks you stink, yeah you
You are so gross and so dirty . . .
Thankfully, we only have these late starts once a month.