Lazy cow disease

Sprog 2 was home “sick” yesterday. Lots of melodramatic coughing and puppy dog eyes. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give her a day off. But you can’t make the experience too attractive or they’ll want to do it all the time. So I told her she had to lie in bed for an hour and not bug me. If she bugged me, I would add 10 minutes to her sentence. Eventually, about 15 minutes after her silent hour (sadist), I finally let her get up and follow me around while I did chores. She pronounced it “boring”. I said: “I told you I had chores and if you stayed home it wouldn’t be fun. This is what Mummy does when you’re at school.” “No it isn’t,” the little minx replied. Oh yeah? “And what do you think I do?” Sprog 2 answered: “You sit around relaxing.” Now, if Husband had said that, I’d have gone all dangerous and flinty eyed. But you can’t do that with a six-year-old because they don’t understand how offensive they’ve just been. I don’t think. So I calmly explained – my teeth might have been slightly gritted – that I don’t sit around all day relaxing. I suggested Sprog 2 would be pretty miserable if I stopped doing the chores she doesn’t think I do. She might realise how hard Mummy worked if her clothes weren’t washed and her dinners weren’t cooked. She just looked bored and wandered off to the playroom. After six years of idle threats that are never followed through, I’ve forfeited the ability to scare her. Bloody wish I got to sit around all day instead of doing the grocery shopping, packing the dishwasher, tidying the house, shovelling chook shit, making dinner, ferrying the Sprogs around … ungrateful buggers …