Blonde moment

I have to tell on myself. I just have to cuz this is priceless "me" stuff that always happens. I joke that God smotes me for the things I do sometimes.

Ok here is the grand confession.

Yesterday was Saturday. duh you know that but what you don't know is that in this house Saturday is chore day. I clean like crazy and do laundry and my son has a chore list and is expected to contribute to this family by doing his chore list in a mild and giving manner. No allowance is given for this list, this is just normal contribution to the daily workings of a household, he gets paid for extra work like doing all my filing and paper shredding, crap jobs that are not normal household maintenance. I started the list since he was like 5 with easy stuff like probably if I remember, picking up toys and silverware and now he's 13 and its morphed to include pooper scooping and dusting and hauling trash out etc. Well there has hardly ever been any moaning and groaning until he hit around 12 and then it became a struggle. I have maintained the stance that if you don't chore you don't play on Saturdays but if he clean and laundry and do all these things in a manner that is not dawdling then we usually go out for a late lunch and movie or movie and dinner. Well my son woke up yesterday, no actually to be truthful he started out the day on the wrong foot with me because he refused to get up it spiraled downhill from there until I was frothing at the mouth and stomping around waving his dirty towels around proclaiming that I wasn't his personal butler.
Then for his extra job, I needed him to put new ink cartridges in the printer so that I could print some vacation pics.
Then with all his grumbling I elbowed him out of the way and started another rant.
Let me be the first to admit that when Im on a rant and rave roll, I have a longgggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg list of things to heave off the ol' chest so I was a rantin and ravin and spewing forth and basically told my son he could just watch his Momma whip that ol printer in shape faster than he could and he was messing up how to do it and blah blah blah. He kept trying to reach for the ink and then the paper and then kept interrupting my tirade. I kept elbowing and shushing. Loud shushing with the whole finger motion too.
I loaded the photo paper in and hit "PRINT" and stomped off, he followed me going."But Mom,....." and I kept whipping around shouting "I do NOT want to hear what you have to say, GO UPSTAIRS and CLEAN that mess up there in that BATHROOM NOW!!!" and he tried again. "But MOM!..." and I gave him my most evil eyed Mother is mad stare and he went back up stairs to do his bathroom chores.
Silent. Remorseful.
I was victorious.
I had won this battle of the belligerent mouthy teen and made him shut up.

Late last night when we got home from being out, I went to go see how my 204 printed photos on 52 pages turned out with delicious anticipation.
Every single one was printed on the backside of the photo paper. backside of the photo paper.
Dull side up photos.
God what did I do???

My son in a quiet shrugging way said "I tried to tell you but you didn't want to hear it remember?"