The Boy used to be a capable person. He could fix things, he could find things, he was alert and aware. Now, not so much. It's as if puberty pulled him into an abyss of ineptitude for which he's unable to get out of and return to normal. Not suprising, it's driving me nuts.
"Mom, where is the duct tape." Well, I have no clue where the duct tape is if it's not where I put it, in the tool box. But since I'm the only person in the house to ever put things back where they belong, I never know where anything is. You know where it was? In the front hall on the table he uses for all his little stuff like keys, Ipod, etc. Now why would I know that?
"Mom, I can't pull the chicken apart, can you help me?" Um, no, I am not going to help you pull apart defrosted chicken. It's pretty clear what part goes with what, and I think you can do it yourself.
"Mom, can I borrow your Uggs, I can't find my shoes." How does he continually lose his shoes. SHOES? We live in a teeny tiny 1200 sq ft house. There are only 6 rooms. If you put things where they belong, then you're not going to lose anything.
"Mom, Ringo is in my closet. What should I do?" How about give his butt a swat and get him out of there. Why do you even have to ask me?
Now granted, I'm short tempered and feel crappy, so this kind of male helplessness gets magnified, but geesh. What is the deal with this? How come the minute they get an infusion of testosterone, their brains turn into total mush? Can someone explain this to me? Stumble It! JBlog Me