Children are born with the innate desire to avoid responsibility. Just think about it. How many years do we spend changing their diapers before they decide to get up off their tushes and take care of business?!
Seriously, though. I remember doing this as a kid. I can remember getting my hair wet under the faucet, wetting the bar of soap, sprinkling water on my towel, all so it would look like I had taken a shower.
My brother and I would come up with the most elaborate explanations about why we couldn’t complete our chores while mom was at work. Thing is, I often felt the reasons were legitimate. Truly. We did this so often that when my brother called to tell her that he wouldn’t be finishing mowing the lawn (because the mower had caught fire in the garage), she was already reacting before he cut in with “but the Fire Chief says it’s going to be ok!”
Despite having plenty of experience on the “other team”, I’m still amazed at what my children come up with. Daryl is a true master of work avoidance. Getting him to unload the dishwasher is more work than just doing it yourself. Every. Single. Time.
Tonight, he started unloading it. Within a minute, he was spotted walking down the hallway with his shirt half off.
“What are you doing, Daryl?” asked my husband.
“I’m taking off my shirt,” replied Daryl as he headed to his room at the other end of the house.
“I don’t think so. Get back in the kitchen and take care of business! All this back and forth just wastes time.”
A few minutes later, we saw him again walking down the hall, this time holding a frying pan. As if anticipating our objections, he quickly said, “I’m thirsty. I need a drink of water.”
“Get back in the kitchen, Daryl.” As he physically turned the boy around and directed him back the way he came, he continued, “There’s this amazing thing about kitchens. There’s a water faucet in there. And drinking vessels. Everything you need to get a drink. You don’t need a trip to the bathroom. And what were you going to do with the pan? Drink out of it?”
There were a couple more intercepts before Daddy deemed the job nearly done and walked to our bedroom to talk to me. As we talked, Daryl came down the hall. Plenty of time had passed so Daddy asked for confirmation, “Have you finished unloading the dishwasher?”
“Oh!” Daryl looked slightly disoriented. “No, I forgot. Let me go finish.”
My husband looked at me and sighed. “That boy gets distracted so easily, it’s not even funny. He doesn’t even get the word ‘squirrel’ out before something else attracts his attention!”