ASKING A BLIND MAN FOR DIRECTIONS

The adult male human population has doubled in my household since January.

And the amount of dirt, crumbs and empty soda cans has quadrupled. Maybe sextupled. No, let's go with octupled (I don't know if that is the correct term, but it appears... cleaner, no pun intended).

Somehow I believed that my son, now older and supposedly wiser, could easily been shown how and thereby WOULD conform easily to my higher standards of cleanliness.

I seem to have forgotten everything from when this little boy first came into my life in 1981.

Being a liberated woman of the 70's, I was determined to raise liberated children.

And it worked great... with the girls.

They had Tonka trucks, bib overalls, sports and the constant adage of 'whatever a boy can do, a girl can do better.'

Then I had my son.

Even without a male role model around (his father was absent five months of his first year - military responsibilities), this cute little baby would immediately take the head off any doll handed him - any item shaped remotely like a stick would instantly become a weapon.

Boys will be boys, regardless of how genderless I tried to keep things.

So as of today, the following actions have not, repeat, have not provided the outcome that I would expect from my girls:

- Leaving polite memos on the kitchen island; they are not read.

- Piling the scattered stuff he leaves around the house in a BIG mound in front of his bedroom door; he walks right over it without a glance.

- Sitting him down and civilly discussing the matter with him; in one ear and out the other.

The next step?

It may very be well be eviction.

Stay tuned.