For the Last Time, I am NOT the Maid

Photograph: George Marks/Retrofile/Getty Images

Dear Kids,

I just wanted to remind you that “mom” and “maid” are not synonyms. I also want to remind you that you are teenagers. There is nothing wrong with your arms, your hands, your legs, or your brain. You are capable of learning to use the washing machine. You can remember when your sports practices are, and you most definitely can make your beds in the morning.  Oh—and that tall basket in your room is called a hamper. Since the one thing I’m certain you do know how to do is surf the Internet, I suggest you Google it.

I’m sorry if I am coming across angry. But, angry describes how I’ve been feeling lately—other than taken for granted that is. I blame myself really, for your not understanding that it takes some effort to keep your room neat and clean and your laundry washed and folded (or ironed and hung—as you, my youngest, so kindly reminded me last night). I have been remiss in teaching you the ins and outs of basic housekeeping.

When you get home today I’m planning to surprise you with a live tutorial of how to work the washer and dryer, the pooper scooper, the broom, the mop, the vacuum, the dishwasher, and the toilet brush. I will impart all I know about making beds and folding fitted sheets (which I’m afraid isn’t much). And then, I will introduce you to my little friend…the chore chart.

Have a nice day,

Your MOM

(NOT your maid)