I was up at 6am this morning (Saturday morning) so I could get DS to the arena by 7am for hockey practice. I got up early (did I mention 6am), had his hot breakfast waiting for him when he came downstairs, and had his hockey equipment organized. I brought the jeep to the back door so he didn't have to walk as far with a heavy bag in the cold. It was -20 degrees Celsius this morning at 6am. Then I sat in the arena warm room (a misnomer, it's not "warm") until 10am so he could practice and then help coach the mites team. I tell you all this because it sets the stage for phase 2 of our morning.
Phase 2 starts at 10:15am -- it's still -20 out and I am frozen from sitting in the cold for 3 hours. When we get into the house the hockey equipment lands on the kitchen floor. I suggest it ought to go to the basement to dry out. I get a long sigh and a "huff." I start Saturday morning chores and I ask DS to unload the dishwasher. This time the sigh is louder and the dishwasher door bangs. At 11am I again call my hockey player to help -- "please collect the garbage from around the house and leave it in the backroom for dad to take out." The response I got was shocking, but not unexpected given the foreboding of the sighs and huffs earlier, "Mom, can't I just sit and watch this episode, I don't want to work right now."
There are many things I could have said at this point, but the great thing about having children is that they can "read" the look on my face that says "is that really what you want to say to the woman who not only gave birth to you, but also spent the morning in a cold arena and now must make you lunch?...." That's the "mom look" that mothers perfect over time, as they discover that their children are not really ungrateful, more just oblivious and need a tuning in every now and then.