Camp Clifford Closed for Repairs

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A couple of weeks ago the basement flooded. We were able to clear the water...Kathy did a lot of the work as I was fortunate to be out of town when it happened...and we were in decent shape.

Except for a closet.

On the way to somewhere else last week, I opened the closet and was hit with a pungent odor. There was only one kid home at the time, but I lofted a direct order in his direction.

"Find out what stinks in the closet. Take your time and clean it good. It might take you awhile, but get a pail and some soap and get it cleaned up."

The kid, who will remain nameless (Matt) gave me the answer I wanted, "Okay."

Ten minutes later I saw said kid (Matt) in his room playing a video game.

"I thought you were cleaning the closet."

"I got rid of the smell," he said. "It was an old pair of wet shoes."

I was on my way to somewhere else. If he solved the problem, fine. I wouldn't make an issue out of it.

Cut to Saturday morning. I open the closet to feed the dogs and I'm nearly driven to my knees by the same exact odor of a few days ago. I bend down and make one movement...I move the dog food bin...to see caked, wet dog food stuck to the bottom of the closet floor.

What would my Dad do?

I laughed thinking about that one. A strange thought entered my mind:

Make your point without yelling.

It took me three hours to clean and deodorize the closet. On my hands and knees I washed the floor - said kid (Matt) wasn't home at the time - but as I cleaned, I seethed, and the little voice to tell me to do it without yelling was yelling at me.

Five hours later, the nameless kid (Matt) came through the door. "I heard and I'm sorry," he said when he saw me. Another kid (Sam) had tipped him off.

My beautiful wife and I set a few new guide rules for Camp Clifford. Despite the fact that I wanted to strangle one (Matt), maybe two (Jake) kids...I established the rules with a simple firm voice.

The hour after dinner was a thing of beauty. The vacuum was humming. The back lawn was being mowed. Pop cans were returned to the store and I saw the floor of their rooms clear of clothes that had been washed but not yet put away.

"Heil Hitler," one kid said as he passed me. (Jake)

Oh, how I wish they'd known my Dad when work needed to be done.

Man, those kids (Jake and Matt) really would have learned a thing from my father.

Last night, as I got ready to close my eyes, a text flashed on the cell phone on the side of my bed.

"Do you need anything?" one kid (Sam) asked.

Ah, the joys of parenting.

Comments

chris said…
oh i can remember on lil job around the house your dad wanted done, so jeff had to pour the concrete and frame the renovation to the front porch! no lil projects! lol "if your gonna be a bear be a grizzly!"
09 May, 2011
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