I hate your stinkin' guts.
You make me bomb it.
You're stuck between my toes.
Both boys laughed and laughed and laughed, and then Micah said, "Mom, what does "bomb it" even mean?"
Classic. Definitely put a smile on my face.
Because the boys are on a 4-day school week, they have long school days. They get home from the bus at 5:10, we have dinner, and we usually have different activities and homework and downtime in the evenings, so I don't make them do chores until Friday.
The boys hate Friday because it is officially the "chore" day in our home. Every Friday, the T.V. and nintendos and computers are shut off at 10am. Then it is up to the boys to complete their chores. During the school year, Ammon has three chores, and the twins each have two. Each Friday, I let the boys know what their chores are for the day, which usually consist of choices from: vacuuming, sweeping, mopping, dusting, dishes, laundry, cleaning the bathroom or cleaning their bedroom. Once I let them know what their assigned chores are, they are in charge of doing it themselves--I do not nag them about it because I know that they are 1. old enough to do them alone and 2. chore-time is a regular routine in our house so they know what is expected of them. Sometimes it takes them a half hour to complete, sometimes it takes over two hours because they choose to not do anything rather than do their chores. The only rules are 1. NO FOOD and 2. NO PLAY TIME until the chores are finished. Aren't I such a mean mom?!
This past Friday was one of those days where the twins didn't feel like doing any chores. Two hours passed while nothing was getting accomplished. Their chores for the day were: 1. clean their room and 2. vacuum. Pretty simple, right? I thought so, but apparently I was wrong. Cleaning their room was proving to be a difficult task that seemed insurmountable and impossible to accomplish. Jonah pushed everything to the outskirts of the room and declared that the room was clean because there was room to play on the middle of the floor. I'd never heard that concept before! He didn't get away with that quite so easily, and I let him know the room was still very much messy. I tried to help them by picking up one corner of the room, and while I was doing so, both boys whined repeatedly about how starving they were. Micah refused to help clean the room in any way, so I told him to get on his bed until he changed his mind. Micah was crying, and didn't want to be on his bed. At this point, Jonah want ballistic and kicked into angry protective mode. He was screaming at me "MOM! He's going to DIE! You HAVE to have food to live! If you don't let him eat, then he's going to DIE!" I tried to console him..."Jonah. Micah is not going to die. If he helps clean his room, then he can eat and so can you". But he wouldn't be consoled. So I put Jonah on his bed to join his brother in time-out, left the room, shut the door, and VOILA!!!--within 5 minutes, the room was miraculously cleaned! And then the boys ate lunch and, here's the best part, lived to tell about it!!!