Summer is finally here, friends, and while in the past I would have shared my plan for surviving these next two months with kids at home, this year I have no such delusions that chore charts and curfews have any effect. For 2021, my Generation Z-ers will be 100 percent free range!
Maybe I’m making a huge mistake, but honestly, with three of the four back from independent college living, why bother? Half the time they aren’t even in the house, so making Wednesdays Andrew’s night for dinner is a literal crapshoot on whether or not I’ll get a meal. And any attempt on my part to have our precious little angels home by midnight is nullified by my strict 9 p.m. bedtime. As they say to me incessantly, “It’s not like you’ll know, Mom!” Fair point.
Nope, this June and July will be about encouraging rather than requiring domestic responsibility and good decision making. We will maximize our finely tuned parental skills of shaming and guilt-tripping to encourage them to be contributing members of our Wilson tribe. Examples include:
“That’s my new Xanax prescription for when I wake at three in the morning and your car isn’t in the driveway. It keeps me from calling hospitals thinking you’re dead on a forgotten ER gurney.”
“Yeah, I see an orthopedic now for my debilitating carpel tunnel from all the extra dishwashing and laundry folding.”
“We had to cancel our anniversary trip to pay for the increased Meijer bill. No big deal. Twenty-five isn’t a big one.”
“I drink because you leave half-eaten carne asadas on the couch.”
Sorry to be of no help this summer. And godspeed, friends. Godspeed.