Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Michael the Maid

Michael was home alone for a few hours last Saturday night. Sean and I had a dessert meeting with another couple and both girls were otherwise engaged. He was home because his college was under the threat of imminent flooding; the campus was evacuated, so home he came.

Saturday was a crazy day – funeral in the morning, a show at the Wharton Center in the afternoon, and the aforementioned meeting in the evening. I didn’t really take the time to clean up the kitchen before leaving, and as we pulled into the driveway after being gone all day long, I dreaded the thought of having to clean up at 10:30 at night.

Turns out I had nothing to worry about. I stepped into a glistening kitchen. I could see the countertops. (This is not a normal occurrence in my kitchen, much to my husband’s chagrin.)  The dirty dishes were in the dishwasher. My many small piles had been piled into one big pile on a corner of the countertop, leaving the island clear and clutter-free. The cords to the various chargers had been coiled up and tucked away.

Michael does not like a mess.

I know he’s a neat-nick. He knows the placement of each Matchbox and Hot Wheel car in his room; move one car and he knows. I never had to hound him to make his bed or clean his room – there would be mornings I didn’t want to make my bed but knew I had to because if my son was making his surely I had to make mine. Even his drawers are neatly kept.

Sometimes I don’t know if he’s really mine…

Amy has a great blog of quotes from the family and her post from Sunday illustrates who Michael is:

A boy who likes his room clean and a restaurant for lunch.

I suppose if this is his way of rebelling against his mom, I can take it. I just wish I'd left him home alone more often!