When I drove down to pick my daughter up from the university, this year, she informed me that she was not going to be very useful over the summer because she intended to take two summer classes. They were online classes, so she would be home, but she would need to study for them. Also, she added, she had a few summer projects of her own that she wanted to work on.
Not a problem. I am all for studying to pass classes. I also have an appreciation for summer projects. I have several of my own. So, all summer long, I was very considerate and left her alone except for
about an hour a day when we ate and watched TV together. There were a few things I asked her help with, but I really kept them to a minimum.
What did Anne do with all her time? She did study a little, but most of her time was spent playing online RPGs. Finally, the end of the summer semester came and she wound up failing both of her classes. Okay. Still not a problem for me. She is an adult. She will deal with her shortage of credits however she deems best. I was just excited that her classes were finally over so that I could get some help with my castle-building project and a few other tasks that require a second set of hands (example, clipping the dog's toenails).
Then it happened. She refused to help. So I quit. Anne said, "You can't just quit like that." I said, "Yes, I can." Then I posted to Facebook that I quit and tagged both her and my son. (He was in instant agreement with me.)
When Anne came downstairs to ask what was for dinner that night, I said, "I don't know. I quit. I ate chips and salsa for dinner." She rolled her eyes and began a pot of rice for herself (which I also shared). While she was starting it, I meandered into the kitchen and asked who would be driving her back to school since I had quit so would not be doing it.
That is about when I got read the riot act and she told me that she would never be coming home again after she left for Fall semester this year. (She is a senior this year and anticipates being hired right out of school at the end of the year.) She then stomped upstairs to her bedroom.
The next morning, I went out for lunch then to the grocery to pick up a TV dinner for myself. On strike more than really having quit, I was determined to forego cooking until my demands were met. When I got home, Anne was awake and upstairs in her bedroom and playing online. I went to my bedroom for a short rest, she heard and she came for a visit.
"Is there something you want me to do today?" She asked.
Like I said, it was a very short strike. It lasted for one dinner before "management" caved to the demands of the worker.
No comments:
Post a Comment