By Mandy Carter
I was deep in thought, pondering on the overwhelming issue of family miscommunication after stumbling on yet another sink full of dirty dishes, when I had an epiphany. I can’t believe it took so long, but it’s suddenly very clear. It makes perfect sense now.
It used to be Zeke’s job to do the dishes, and Zoey’s to feed the cats and dogs, until Zoey developed a mysterious and sudden paralyzing, shriek-inducing fear of the dark, at just about pet-feeding time one particularly cold evening. It must have been some sort of chore pandemic, because Zeke simultaneously developed an intolerable allergy to forks, so they opted to switch duties. Everybody was miraculously cured for approximately 12 hours.
It wasn’t long until we were back to hounding different kids over the same chores.
“Why is it a surprise to you the dogs are supposed to eat EVERY day? Don’t you eat every day? What if we forgot to feed you today?”
“Why are there still dirty dishes from last night’s dinner on the kitchen table? Don’t we do dishes after every meal so we’ll have clean dishes for the next one? What if I just didn’t do anything I didn’t want to, what then?”
That’s usually when Mike starts looking around thinking his mother is lurking somewhere behind the furniture. She says he’s paying for his raising. I want to know why I have to pay for it, too. I did MY chores, at least that’s how I remember it.
They both continue to look shocked every time they are ‘reminded’ at the same time every day for not doing the same chores they got yelled at for not doing yesterday, and the day before that. It’s like it’s all news to them – every day. I think I know why.
I don’t think Zoey was in there yesterday when I was explaining loudly and plainly, again, about rinsing the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. I think it was Chloe.
Chloe is the other Zoey, and she’s not friendly. It’s much more peaceful when you’re speaking to Zoey, but now that they’re 12, we see Chloe more than we used to. She tends to sneak up on us, since we haven’t figured out what wakes her up. It does, however, completely explain the mystery of why Zoey doesn’t remember endless lectures about the importance of chores and responsibilities.
I’m pretty sure it’s the same with Zeke, because I think it’s hereditary. Anyone who’s ever met Ike or Andy can attest to the fact that, while it takes a lot to get either one of them to show up, when they do, you know it, and you probably won’t like it. Generally it takes the presence of Chloe and/or Eke to bring out Ike and Andy, but the results are the same. We’re not any better. We’re just as surprised every day as the kids are. Same lectures, frustration, eye rolling and exasperated sighs every day, all apparently triggered by some Pavlovian chore bell, because no one seems to remember we did all of this yesterday. It’s like living in the movie Groundhog Day.
Eke is somewhat more passive than Chloe, fortunately. It cuts the drama in half. He isn’t generally angry or loud. He’s quite polite in the midst of his short term memory loss, as a matter of fact. Sometimes he even looks like he’s listening, so it’s easy to confuse him with Zeke. One of them can even recite the daily monologues, but since I’m not sure which one, I can’t hold them to it.
We have our hands full, what with trying to keep the daily routine on track and making sure we have the eight of us under control before we go out in public.
I’m trying to decide if my epiphany makes me feel better or worse. Jury’s still out.
