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A Few Random Thoughts on Domesticity
May. 23rd, 2007 05:03 pmI have found the most effective method of birth control. It's called baby-sitting.
(Yes, that was harsh. Do I care? Not right now).
My cousin from Reno and her husband are on a trip to visit family in New York, so they left their three kids with my aunt and uncle (my cousin's mom and dad and the kids' grandparents). My aunt and uncle came out to our ranch to see their other daughter and son-in-law (my cousin and her husband that work and live on the ranch with us. They have four kids). So far, all seven of the wild bunch have left well-enough alone and haven't worn out their welcome.
Until today. My sisters had piano lessons today, which means an hour trip to their piano teacher's house, a hour and a half wait, and an hour trip back (about three and a half to four hours gone). Four of the most rambunctious of the wild bunch (all under the age of ten) decided to choose today to make themselves comfortable at my house and make me their best friend who will play with them and cause all sorts of havoc and mayhem. That is, until one of them gets out his BB gun and starts pointing it where the little kids are. So I had to take it away from him and he was pissed. Then, one of them (the most bossy) decided to climb a tree and fall out, skin her legs and limp back to my house. Then, the littlest got in a fight over who wanted to sit in the chair to watch a video.
I finally got the kids settled down (at least, I think they're still settled down), when I remembered that my mom wanted me to cook dinner. And not just any dinner. She wants me to cook sloppy joes and mashed potatoes, quipping that I am 22 years old and I should know how to cook something other than frozen pizza or microwave dinners. But I hate cooking. My cooking skills are limited at best. Too much can go wrong and it usually does (on my watch). Either I don't do something right or something will start smoking or some other catastrophe. When I lived in my apartment in Logan, the smoke alarm would start beeping when I would just turn the oven on (it probably figured: "Oh, she's cooking again, might as well get this over with). I don't have the patience to cook and there are plenty of other things I would rather be doing.
I'm usually not very domestic, anyway. About the only domestic skill I have and I enjoy doing is sewing, but that's more of a hobby. I do like doing laundry (as long as I don't have to fold socks).
Just my musings. Gotta go. Mom'll be home soon and I ought to at least have the hamburger in the pan. And I think someone downstairs is bleeding. Oy.
Love from,
Jenny Wildcat
EDIT: It turned out no one was bleeding. It was just another argument between the two littlest over who was going to sit in the favorite chair, but that was enough. I just carted them all back to their house where their grandma (my aunt) had dinner waiting for them and she had the pleasure of corraling thelittle monsters wee chitlins.
(Yes, that was harsh. Do I care? Not right now).
My cousin from Reno and her husband are on a trip to visit family in New York, so they left their three kids with my aunt and uncle (my cousin's mom and dad and the kids' grandparents). My aunt and uncle came out to our ranch to see their other daughter and son-in-law (my cousin and her husband that work and live on the ranch with us. They have four kids). So far, all seven of the wild bunch have left well-enough alone and haven't worn out their welcome.
Until today. My sisters had piano lessons today, which means an hour trip to their piano teacher's house, a hour and a half wait, and an hour trip back (about three and a half to four hours gone). Four of the most rambunctious of the wild bunch (all under the age of ten) decided to choose today to make themselves comfortable at my house and make me their best friend who will play with them and cause all sorts of havoc and mayhem. That is, until one of them gets out his BB gun and starts pointing it where the little kids are. So I had to take it away from him and he was pissed. Then, one of them (the most bossy) decided to climb a tree and fall out, skin her legs and limp back to my house. Then, the littlest got in a fight over who wanted to sit in the chair to watch a video.
I finally got the kids settled down (at least, I think they're still settled down), when I remembered that my mom wanted me to cook dinner. And not just any dinner. She wants me to cook sloppy joes and mashed potatoes, quipping that I am 22 years old and I should know how to cook something other than frozen pizza or microwave dinners. But I hate cooking. My cooking skills are limited at best. Too much can go wrong and it usually does (on my watch). Either I don't do something right or something will start smoking or some other catastrophe. When I lived in my apartment in Logan, the smoke alarm would start beeping when I would just turn the oven on (it probably figured: "Oh, she's cooking again, might as well get this over with). I don't have the patience to cook and there are plenty of other things I would rather be doing.
I'm usually not very domestic, anyway. About the only domestic skill I have and I enjoy doing is sewing, but that's more of a hobby. I do like doing laundry (as long as I don't have to fold socks).
Just my musings. Gotta go. Mom'll be home soon and I ought to at least have the hamburger in the pan. And I think someone downstairs is bleeding. Oy.
Love from,
Jenny Wildcat
EDIT: It turned out no one was bleeding. It was just another argument between the two littlest over who was going to sit in the favorite chair, but that was enough. I just carted them all back to their house where their grandma (my aunt) had dinner waiting for them and she had the pleasure of corraling the
