There's your way, and then there's MY way....

After a reasonably peaceful (no ER visits from the boys fighting or from me bashing heads together), sports-filled, action-packed summer, the boys are headed back to school next week. Third grade for Hunter and sixth grade (middle school) for Jackson. Selfish as it may sound, I'm looking forward to getting my time back. Come on, if you're a mom (or SAHD), admit it, you know what I mean.

So yesterday I asked Jax to go through his dresser drawers & tidy them up. Socks in one drawer, underwear in another, etc. So I head out to do errands and come back to find Jackson all finished. Or so he said. I have to say that I usually have my doubts when he tells me he has finished something (other than homework---which luckily, he is quite diligent about).

A little sideline here......Those of you who know me know that Jackson has been doing his own laundry since he was 11. Before getting up in arms about making an 11 year old do his own laundry, let me explain my reasoning. I've always done all of the laundry. No problem, not an issue. It's included in my job description (lol). I fold everything & put it in their baskets so they just need to hang up their shirts, put shorts away, etc. So one day I asked Jackson if he was done putting everything away (after an amazingly quick 2 minutes). He said, yep--all done. Being the skeptic that I am (listen, I wasn't born yesterday) I check out his room. Bed made, no clothes in sight.....until I open the closet doors. The basket full of clean & folded clothes had been tossed into the closet with everything spilling out & getting completely wrinkled. I was livid. We had a talk, I showed him how I expected things to go. End of story. Right?

Well, not so much. Next time, I found the basket behind his bookcase, again with clothes toppling out, completely a mess. This actually happened a few more times---it's amazing the clever spots he can find in his room (on the top bunk buried under the pillows, dangling from the ceiling fan, etc.). Enough was enough. It's not as if I enjoy doing laundry. I explained that since he didn't respect my time, he would be doing his own from now on. So we headed into the laundry room for Laundry 101. I even bought him the Purex 3-in-1 sheets that go from washer to dryer & include detergent & fabric softener after I realized that he wasn't using the liquid detergent. Eewwww.

So back to the original story.....when he's in the basement playing Xbox for the 2000th hour this month, I head up to his room and open the drawers one by one.....

Socks.......good.
PJ's..........good. At least in a drawer even though he doesn't wear any of them.
Underwear..,,...where are his underwear? Oh. 2 pair. He has 2 pair? He doesn't wear underwear??? Are all boys like this or is this specific to my own son?
On to the next drawer.....shirts. Lots of shirts. Shirts??? Balled up and shoved in the drawer? I don't think so!! I pulled out at least 12 tee shirts & sports jerseys....and tossed them into a pile on the floor. I wish I had thought to take a picture (next time...I'm still new at this). I lovingly call him over the intercom......Oh, Jax....honey.....would you please come up here? He makes his way to his room and looks at the pile. Then looks at me. Yeah? he says. Me: Your dad tells me that your closet is empty and you need shirts. They're right here. Why are they here and not there (me pointing to the empty closet)? Him: I dunno. Me: looks like you have a little laundry to do. These can't be worn wrinkled.  Him: yeah, whatever.

Does anyone else hate it as much as I do when they use that tone when they say 'whatever'? So I walk out of his room, counting backward from 500 (aren't you supposed to count to 10 before reacting? I added 490 just for good measure) . Think I was still counting when Mike came home an hour later.

Fast forward to today.....Jackson did all of his laundry. Curiosity got the best of me, so I just went into his room to check it out. Amazing--he has a closet full of shirts. Still only 2 pair of underwear though. Whatever.