This morning, I noticed the backyard was littered with toys. I called the boys outside and told them to pick up.
“What do you mean?” my youngest son said. “It’s fine.”
I call this the stupid gambit. It’s where the boys try to convince me they’re simply not able to understand what clean is. Therefore, their logic goes, they cannot be expected to clean. The routine drives me crazy.
“Okay,” I said, crossing my arms. “I’ll make it easy. There should be nothing on the ground but grass.” I looked at him. “If you see eomething on the ground that’s not grass, pick it up and put it away.”
“Okay.” He shrugged and walked across the grass to wrap both arms around an oak tree.
“What are you doing?” I said, exasperated.
He groaned as he gave an exaggerated pull. “It’s on the ground.” He pulled again. “And it’s not grass.”