Now that summer is here I feel the need to reiterate some of the basics. In order for us all to survive, I’d like to take this opportunity to go over some of the ground rules.
I don’t care what you eat. As long as I don’t have to assist you in any way, shape, or form. I’m not cooking. You’re old enough to find food in the cabinets and open the packaging yourself. I put a lot of time and effort into the $400 worth of processed food I purchased to last us the entire summer.
Yes some of it is hidden. And yes I will forget that I did indeed hide it. But one day when I’m searching through the pantry for the pack of cigarettes I hid on myself the last time I quit smoking, I’ll be sure to find it all. And it will be like Christmas.
If you eat it all in the first week and starve to death by summer’s end, there’s really no one to blame but yourself. Stop asking me for snacks. Do you even know what true hunger feels like? I had an eating disorder in high school. I know hunger. Until your hair starts falling out and you stop menstruating, you’re not really hungry.
God what I’d give for an ounce of that will power again.
Paper or Plastic.
All tableware shall be made of paper. All flatware shall be made of plastic. Summer is no time to be stuck inside doing dishes.
Ice is a hot commodity during summer. (No pun intended.) So use it sparingly. It melts fast in this heat and I like my vodka chilled. If my drinks are watered down, your fun will also be.
Peeing outdoors is totally acceptable. Pooping is not. At least not in our yard.
No snitching. None. Unless someone is on fire, I don’t want you running up to me and telling me anything anyone else is doing. I don’t care if someone said the “S” word, the “P” word, or the “Q” word. Whatever the hell the “Q” word is. Because I know damn well they learned it from you. So just stop. No one likes a rat.
In or Out.
Pick one and stay there. If I hear that back door slam one more freaking time. Just one more freaking time and I’m going to lose it. If you go outside, stay there. If you come inside, don’t. Stay outside.
Watch Me. Watch Me.
I have seen you do a handstand more times than I’d care to admit. And quite frankly you’re not even that good at it. So every time I take a drink of my wine I’m going to yell, “hey kids, watch me, watch me!” Then maybe you’ll stop. It’s going to suck. Trust me. It’s no way to spend your summer.
Charge them. Now. Don’t wait until bedtime when I’m ready to lose my damn mind. Don’t come to me crying because your Ipad is at 3%. Every single outlet in this house has a charger of some sort plugged into it. Use them. I don’t care if you have to go to bed without watching an episode of Dance Moms. Not my prob. Charge it.
And one more thing. Complain to me you’re bored. I dare you. We have a pool. We belong to a pool. You’re in a camp. You’re related to half the neighborhood. Find something to do. That doesn’t involve eating, or snitching, or peeing, or being inside, or an electrical socket.