It was a family dinner like any other in the Brown household.
I was bribing Lars to eat all of his supper in return for a brimming bowl of deliciousness, that included strawberries and whipped cream with an added touch of sprinkles on top. I’m pretty sure that it was the sprinkles that sealed the deal.
Sophie of course was offered the same deal, but Sophie, you see, does not give in as easily to bribery. She did not want to eat her roast beef dinner, and I am sure that no amount of multi-coloured sprinkles would change that. I held strong though while telling her that she would not get any dessert until her plate was clean.
My heart sank a little as I dished up Lars’ bowl of berries and cream; Sophie just looked idly by knowing that she would not receive any, because her plate still had 90 percent of her dished up food still lying there sadly.
Call it Mom intuition, but I knew this day was going to be a rough one.
As I made my way out to the kitchen to brew myself a coffee, I felt weary and worn out.
The day hadn’t even begun yet and I felt as though a steamroller had done me in during the hours of night.
I scanned my surroundings and everywhere I glanced there was a job to be done. Clean the kitchen table of its clutter. Unload the dishwasher, load the dishwasher with the mountainous stack of dishes in the sink.
It is no secret that this year our poor province has been riddled with the white fluffy stuff. I suppose I shouldn’t be complaining, as they say — we do live in Canada! Not to mention I am sure, that a mass majority of the public loves all of this snow. We’ve got the snowmobilers who speed through our fields and trails with a white powder tail trailing them, the skiers and snowboarders who I am pretty sure are revelling in the coverage on the mountains right now, and not forgetting of course, the children!
Currently the highest drift in our back yard is about five feet tall. My wonderful husband and my brother have made this into a fort/toboggan hill for the kids.
The base of the drift has been hollowed out and on the opposite side they have smoothed down a ramp for crazy carpets and GT racers.
I truly do appreciate the effort from these two men in my life, but I mustn’t lie when I say that watching Sophie in the little polar bear house (which they have named the snow fort) and Lars racing down the top of that same embankment gives me a near heart attack each time I see it.
The kid joke — that gag that continues to hinder your day to day thought process and sully your ability to be a normal functioning adult.
My kids are just entering into the joke stage.
They are at the increasingly annoying place in time where they spit out a joke they have summoned up from the depths of their intellect, which rarely makes any sense in the first place, but to make matters even more hilarious, they repeat the same line about a thousand times to really ensure that I got the gist of the punch line.
What punch line? I ask myself, but there must surely be some sort of punch line, since Sophie has just literally peed her pants laughing so uncontrollably hard at this last doozy. Allow me to elaborate.
There will always be room for improvement, more times than not there will be those extra five pounds to lose, that bad habit to break or that pesky emotional wall that hinders us from achieving our goals in life.
So each year on December 31st we decide that everything is going to change from here on out, things are going to start looking up and as long as we state our resolution for all to read on our social media networks, these goals will surely be attained.
We will waste money by purchasing the hottest new fad dieting pills, organizational tools for the office and stacks of self-help books on ‘How to be a Better You’.
But the sad truth is that all of these provisions that we acquire in an attempt to become that ‘Better You’ will get thrust aside and forgotten by mid-February.