The Bigger They Get

I don’t want to generalize about men or male bash since I have a terrific husband and two incredible sons.

But.

If the lack of initiative displayed by the men in our home isn’t the result of gender, it is almost certainly genetic since father and sons are all afflicted. I started to realize what I was up against when the children were very small. Yes,Dear came home from work one evening and between the sidewalk and our front porch he stepped over a tricycle, a wagon, a doll, and a wiffle bat that all belonged on the porch. Once inside, he stepped over two kids scuffling in the living room, two baskets of clean clothes waiting to be taken upstairs, and more loose toys.

He poured himself a drink and settled into a kitchen chair to watch me cook dinner and warm up the baby’s bottle. How was your day? I asked. Really good, he said. I held a station meeting today and told the team that I want them to start taking more initiative when they see things that need to be done.

Holy crap. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

So for 22 years now, I have attempted to teach our sons to take the initiative when they see things that need to be done. Sadly, the results haven’t been encouraging. In fact, I’ve found myself coming up with workarounds to keep from becoming overly frustrated and maiming someone in a fit of pique. For instance, we’ve switched toothpaste brands - not because the dentist recommended one brand over another or because the price is better - but because the brand we switched to does not have a separate cap that requires all that laborious screwing back on after brushing. That little hinged snap top has saved lives.

Another example: As they reached age 11 or so, I taught each child how to do his or her own laundry. Since then, I’ve made certain I have a lot more underwear than the boys do (I recommend two extra weeks’ worth) so that when they run out of underwear, they will wash their clothes and not wait until I do my laundry to ask if they can throw a few things in with my load. For a while during their middle school years, this was not a roaring success because they just weren’t very fussy about personal hygiene. Then they discovered girls and the situation improved.

Over the years, I’ve bought them every type of laundry receptacle known to man, but they still prefer to use their bedroom floors. After showering, they ball up their wet towels and leave them on the radiator or the floor. I’ve found drinking glasses in their rooms with creatures growing in them that spoke in complete sentences in three languages. When my daughter and I reluctantly cleaned Son Two’s room last Spring, we found a pie pan from the previous Thanksgiving with a piece of pecan pie still in it. We knew it was pecan pie because of the pan it was in - the pie itself was no longer recognizable. We found other things, too, that I’m trying very hard to forget because I have a weak stomach and even thinking about them makes me gag.

I’ve tried. I don’t know what more I can do. I adore my guys. They’re loving and funny and they have good hearts. They’re just messy and not inclined to clean up after themselves without a lot more nagging than I ever want to do again.

So I’m taking the initiative and issuing a preemptive apology to my future daughters-in-law, whoever they may be. I’m sorry. I’ve done the best I can, girls.

The rest is up to you.

This entry was posted on Monday, June 23rd, 2008 at 3:13 am and is filed under Stuff and Nonsense. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.