I just had the most interesting conversation with Aaron, as he sat on the sofa eating a large bowl of Lucky Charms (I caved in with the sweetness factor because it’s St. Patrick’s month). He turned and said to me, “You know, Mom, you will only have the Mom Job for a few more months, then it will be over.” I stared at his seventeen-year-old face, wondering what in the world he meant. “Well, you know, I’ll be going off to BYU in the Fall, then on my mission, so you really only have to be a Mom for a few more months.” I continued staring as my Mom Life flashed before my eyes (from diapers to Joy School to car pools to music lessons and ball games to full grocery bags). He continued, “So you’d better be really good at it. This is your last chance to be nice to me.”
As I questioned him, incredulous, I learned that in his mind, the Mom Job is mostly about food. “Did you feed us when we were little?” he asked. “Three meals a day,” I answered. “You did??” “Yes, I did.” “Why don’t you feed us now?” I’ve spent the last 10 years trying to teach my kids that I’m not a “Slave Mama” and that they are capable (among other things) of feeding themselves, doing their own homework, and doing their own laundry. For the most part, they’ve done quite well. They are independent contributors to society.
All I can conclude is that all that Lucky Charms sugar went to his head this morning, and took him back to a helpless childhood state. Let’s hope he gets over it.
As far as the Mom Job goes, according to Aaron, I guess I’ll be done soon. After this conversation, I glanced over at John, the Dad, across the room, as he tried not to burst into laughter, and I smiled back.