I've learned that when I give my kids instructions to do something, I have to be VERY specific. My sister Janelle already learned this and I had to chuckle this weekend listening to her give her daughter instructions to bring her digital camera to her.
"Go upstairs, to our room, in the bag in the corner is the camera. Get me the camera, unplug this, plug in that, get the memory card, close the case, carry the camera downstairs."
I don't remember her exact instructions, of course, but perhaps she has learned from experience on how to give your kids instructions.
When I was a kid, oh, about seven years old or so, my mom and I were grocery shopping at Rainbow Foods in Plymouth. (This must have been before Cub in Maple Grove was built.) We were in the produce aisle and my mom asked me to grab a bunch of green onion. I grabbed a plastic bag and opened it up, stuffing bunch after bunch of green onion into the bag. A fellow shopper noticed, who must have overheard my mom's instructions, and started to chuckle. I looked at my mom, who then looked down at my overfilling bag of green onion.
"I said, grab a bunch."
"This is a bunch."
"No, dear, a bunch is one."
News to me. I thought a bunch was, well, you know, a bunch. Like a lot. What does a bunch mean to you?
I folded the laundry yesterday and dreaded hauling the kids' clothes up the stairs. Lazy, I know, but I just had a baby. (I wonder how long I can use that excuse?) I asked Avery and Tucker to bring their clothes upstairs.
We left to run some errands and when we returned, I carried a sleeping Piper up the stairs and almost went head over tea kettle, tripping on a pair of jeans and some pajamas. They looked awful familiar, just like the ones I just folded and exactly like the ones I had asked them to bring upstairs.
"Avery? What are these clothes doing on the floor up here?"
"I don't know. Tucker did it."
"Mm-hmm. Put them in the closet please."
"Okay, Mom."
Piper woke up from her nap a few hours later and I traveled upstairs to get her. I noticed the same pair of jeans I almost lost my life to hanging out of the closet. I opened up the closet door and saw that she had indeed put the clothes into the closet, but just not into the drawers where they belong.
"Avery? Come here, please."
"What?"
"What is this?"
"My closet."
"What are these clothes?"
"Oh! I'll put them away Mom. I'm truly sorry."
Sigh. It would have been easier to just do it myself instead of trusting an almost five year old to do it correctly. But then again, I just had a baby.
"Go upstairs, to our room, in the bag in the corner is the camera. Get me the camera, unplug this, plug in that, get the memory card, close the case, carry the camera downstairs."
I don't remember her exact instructions, of course, but perhaps she has learned from experience on how to give your kids instructions.
When I was a kid, oh, about seven years old or so, my mom and I were grocery shopping at Rainbow Foods in Plymouth. (This must have been before Cub in Maple Grove was built.) We were in the produce aisle and my mom asked me to grab a bunch of green onion. I grabbed a plastic bag and opened it up, stuffing bunch after bunch of green onion into the bag. A fellow shopper noticed, who must have overheard my mom's instructions, and started to chuckle. I looked at my mom, who then looked down at my overfilling bag of green onion.
"I said, grab a bunch."
"This is a bunch."
"No, dear, a bunch is one."
News to me. I thought a bunch was, well, you know, a bunch. Like a lot. What does a bunch mean to you?
I folded the laundry yesterday and dreaded hauling the kids' clothes up the stairs. Lazy, I know, but I just had a baby. (I wonder how long I can use that excuse?) I asked Avery and Tucker to bring their clothes upstairs.
We left to run some errands and when we returned, I carried a sleeping Piper up the stairs and almost went head over tea kettle, tripping on a pair of jeans and some pajamas. They looked awful familiar, just like the ones I just folded and exactly like the ones I had asked them to bring upstairs.
"Avery? What are these clothes doing on the floor up here?"
"I don't know. Tucker did it."
"Mm-hmm. Put them in the closet please."
"Okay, Mom."
Piper woke up from her nap a few hours later and I traveled upstairs to get her. I noticed the same pair of jeans I almost lost my life to hanging out of the closet. I opened up the closet door and saw that she had indeed put the clothes into the closet, but just not into the drawers where they belong.
"Avery? Come here, please."
"What?"
"What is this?"
"My closet."
"What are these clothes?"
"Oh! I'll put them away Mom. I'm truly sorry."
Sigh. It would have been easier to just do it myself instead of trusting an almost five year old to do it correctly. But then again, I just had a baby.
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