We still give our boys baths…. most of the time together. We do it because Archibald (not his real name) cannot be trusted to bathe himself by himself. He’s a great kid, don’t get me wrong. But, he is a little on the wild side. Or, I should say, he has a spark of curiosity so strong in him, he sometimes takes things to extremes and, unfortunately, breaks a lot of things, or uses more cleaning products than he should
Mortimer (not his real name either) can be trusted except when he’s with Archie. He’s the perfect co-dependent.
Anyway, it was my turn to bathe the little buggers the other night. Mommy and daddy take turns so that one person doesn’t have to do it every night. After all, we both work full time. Usually, mommy does the bathing 4 nights and I do it three. Only because I usually work at least one night of the week. A couple of weeks ago, I did it five nights because mommy had special events to prepare for at work and was unavailable. I don’t mind it.
I want to be involved in my boys’ lives. My dad did not do one-hundredth for me what I’ve done for my boys. I’m not upset or angry over that. He was who he was. He gave everything he could. I understand that now. Times were different.
The boys get into the bath and, of course, they talk like they talk all time. I mean they talk all the time. No, really, all the time! I know when they are awake in the morning because they start talking immediately upon rising.
Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Morty says, “My life sucks.”
How about that from a seven year-old!?
I immediately chastise him and tell him never to say that again. Well, he can’t say it again until he’s sixty when no matter what, his life will suck like it does for everyone sixty years old. I suppose there are sixty year old people out there who are having the times of their lives and frolicking around like wild donkeys. But, I don’t know. Or maybe, it’s just me.
Sometimes I feel like my life sucks. My job is not just raining on the altar of my psyche, it is thundering and lightning-ing on my emotional, spiritual and mental well-being. Its influence is spreading into my relationships at home, not because I take out my frustrations and disappointments on my family, but because I am not at my best when I deal with them. In other words, it is time to move on.
Plus, I do not like the house we live which, I kid you not, is haunted. Doors mysteriously open and close by themselves and the ice cream in the refrigerator, my ice cream mind you, somehow gets emptied overnight. I know nobody in the house is responsible for those things because they deny it every single time!
I don’t like our cars, the neighborhood and the county, the driveway and yard. I don’t really like living with my mother-in-law either, but unfortunately, that will not change anytime soon. She is just under 3000 years old and was a personal friend of Jesus. Unfortunately, she will probably live another 3000 years. She is talking about walking on water but I tell her that’s just the deck after it rained.
Some days are better than other days. But, the bad days seem really bad. I know my psyche will improve once I find a job I can believe in again.
But, for a seven year-old to say his life sucks? Preposterous! What could possibly suck when you’re seven? You don’t get enough ice cream or TV or playing time??? I mean those things could POSSIBLY suck for someone my age, but seven???
As it turns out and after a long conversation with Morty, he doesn’t feel like he gets enough attention. We spend a lot of time with Archie because of his special needs, so we let Morty do his own thing. He is pretty conscientious about it anyway. But, Morty doesn’t like to always be left alone. Ok, I get it. That sucks. It sucks when you’re seven and when you’re older and probably when you’re 3000, too.
Of course, it’s always hard to get the right attention at the right time from the right people. When you’re young, you need it. When you get older, you learn to live without it. I don’t know which sucks more, not getting it or learning not to expect it.