You may call me "Your Highness"

Last night Rocky was wandering aimlessly around the house and asked to go outside. Since our neighbor had a bunch of boys playing at her house, and since I knew they wouldn't think to invite Rocky, and since I knew he would stand there and stare and look pitiful, I said no.

Instead I offered to let him earn some extra money for his boy scout campout this weekend. The deal is that he pays for half the campout, and we pay for half the campout. Since he doesn't earn enough allowance-wise to pay for a campout, I offer him the opportunity to earn extra money by doing household chores.

Rocky said, "I don't feel like working right now."

Now, since I had worked yesterday after spending Thursday night with my mother, who had what was apparently a stroke, and was then in the middle of grading papers, cleaning the kitchen, making a grocery list, and cooking supper, I was, ahem, somewhat annoyed by this statement.

"Fine," I said. "I don't feel like cooking your supper." He retreated to his room.

Later I asked him about his statement, and he made matters worse by clarifying it by saying, "I think you should just pay for everything." Then he stepped in it. "And I am sorry we had to have this conversation."

He is lucky his head is attached.

So this morning, I wrote down my normal list of chores for Saturday. And I told Rocky, "I've been thinking about what you said. You're right...I will pay for the entire campout." He looked suspicious as well he should.

"However, you will spend the day with me, doing all these chores which I normally would have to do." And I didn't add, I will do some housework, but mostly I will sit and do the things I want to do for a change.

So, right now, I am on my computer, and the birds are singing outside, the girls are talking quietly in their rooms, and Rocky is gagging as he cleans the toilet. Music to my ears.