The Foorce

After an intensely busy Monday the pressure is on to finish the Monday Minute on Monday. Let’s see how many more times I can fit Monday into a sentence, right?

I’m beginning to think that the Monday Minute series is really my therapy through comic relief. The following conversation, while somewhat humorous, is a painfully all-too-familiar routine 4+ mornings a week:

My responses are in bold italics. Ryan’s remarks are in bold. James is in italics.

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Setting: getting ready to go after breakfast – brushing teeth mercifully done.

Okay James go get your socks on. What? Get your socks on. Ohhhhhhhhh. Hurry up and put one on your foot. 

James, put your sock on your foot. (muttering in a soft voice):blahblah. What? James. socks. blahblahblah. James. blah. 1….blah….2…..blah…. 3……blah. Okay – strike 1 against Wii time. No. You need to stop talking back right now. Don’t get more strikes. I hate when you’re bothering me. What? I hate it. Get your shoes on.

(stomps over to hall and gets shoes, slams shoes down on the floor) Just boring. boring. boring.

(Ryan) Stop making unpleasant noises at your mother. (very quietly to self): not even doing anything. James. Mom, he said I’m doing something and I’m not.

(repeats in falsetto): Mom, he said I’m doing something and I’m not. Why are you talking like that? Are your shoes on?

I’m getting them on. (repeats in falsetto): I’m getting them on.

Are they on?

Are they on?

James – mm-hmm. Okay go get a jacket on. Can I bring Diary of A Wimpy Kid? Okay, but get a jacket. Diary of a Wimpy Kid? Ok. 

(flicking closet light on and off)

James – coat. backpack. go. 

2 minutes later

James, is your coat on? Yes. hi dad. Hi James. Hi dad. Hi James. Hi dad. Stop, okay. Oh good grief. gooood grief. good grief. goood.

Grief. Mom would you help me zip? Sure, come here. So I need a travel mug of coffee for the way. What? a travel mug. No. you just brushed your teeth. how about a big kiss then? Okay. Yuck. What? Your lotion is on your face. gross.

James put your backpack on and go down to the lobby. backpack backpack. backpack backpack backpack. (swishswishswishswish) Ryan: James, what are you doing? (to me): Is it the floppy sleeves? No, it’s the swishing noise. What? The swishing of the material – he’s freaking out. (James continues to spastically swish his sleeves together)

(to Ryan): Have fun walking to school with that jacket.

Okay, mom!