Yesterday, I was unloading the dishwasher at the house I share with Sweetums. I had put everything away except the flatware. I looked at the flatware bin and sighed. What is it about putting the utensils away that makes me hate it? It takes less than a minute.
As I was standing there I thought of all the times, when I was a single mom, that Baby Girl and I fought over emptying the dishwasher. She’s a grown-up married lady now and has to empty her own dishwasher. My lips curved into a smile. I put the rest of the utensils away and went to look up the piece I’d written in my book “Fairly Odd Mother: Musings of a Slightly Off Southern Mom.” Ah, memories. I’ve shared it below. Books available on Amazon.com.
The Standoff at the O-Kazek Corral
The house was quiet.
I was in my bedroom; my Baby Girl in hers. Between us – the kitchen. Who would make the first move?
The tension mounted (cue the eerie whistling theme to “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.”)
I unholstered my phone and dialed my teenage daughter’s cell phone. Twenty-five feet away, from behind the closed bedroom door, she answered.
“Well? I asked
“Well?” she answered.
“Are you going to?”
“I said I would.”
“That was two days ago. I want to know when.”
“I said I would.”
I waited. Still no sign of movement. In the kitchen, only the sound of crickets and passing tumbleweeds could be heard.
I decided to take action: I went to sleep.
In the morning, Baby Girl and I met at 20 paces in the kitchen.
“What’s for breakfast?”
“No breakfast. Nothing to eat if from.”
She shrugged, rolled up a chocolate chip Eggo and went to catch her ride to school.
That night I was ready.
“Mom, I need a new outfit for Friday night.”
I shrugged. “No money.”
She moved like a professional dish-slinger. I didn’t even see her draw. In fewer than two minutes, the dishwasher was empty.
I smiled and got my purse. We went out for a nice mother-daughter shopping trip.
The standoff at the O-Kazek Corral had ended without bloodshed. This time.