On this Earth Day, many people are thinking about R words: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle…I’ve been thinking about some other R words – mothers of teenagers will relate:
Please forgive me if I ramble. I am in a rut. I go back and forth between rage and resentment. I’m on a roller coaster in retrograde. Reproduction seemed like a good idea at the time, but I admit, I am reconsidering – sometimes I wish we were not related.
I remember when I could reconcile them with a rational explanation for my refusal of their request – now I must rail like a raving lunatic to reinforce the regulations. I am not rigid. I realize that my role has been reduced to that of a referee in charge of rebels on a rampage. Instead of being receptive to my reminders, they recoil at the restrictions. They are reckless, rude and downright rotten!
What about responsibility? Is it realistic to require them to rinse their receptacles before putting them in the dishwasher (I suppose I should be relieved that they even retrieve them)? Our living room is now a rec room – they recline, play Rock Band, blast rap music, and rebuff any rejoinders to “Turn down that racket!” I have tried to reclaim repose from their rambuctiousness – they regard me with ridicule when I redouble my efforts at re-establishing the rules. My rationality is ravelling!
It seems that my raison d’etre is to respond to their every requirement. Attempts to recruit them to do a little work are met with reproaches about how “rough” it is to live here, and requests for remuneration. I might have to resort to using a rake to rid ourselves of the rubbish!
They are relentlessly ravenous! They root through the refrigerator like raccoons, but refrain from eating real food when it’s set on the table before them. It’s all I can do to restrain myself! When I reprimand them, they are recalcitrant.
I don’t relish mornings. There is no respite as I rush from room to room reminding recumbent residents of the relentless passage of time. They resent my role in getting them to rise. It’s the same routine every day, regardless of my remonstrances. It is a relief when they run out the door.
Can I get a refund for this riff raff? Is it too late to become a recluse? A radical approach might be to set them adrift on a raft down the river…with my luck, I’d be caught red-handed! Maybe I could raffle them off?