I’ve always wanted to possess that thing that others have. The thing that makes them completely immune to feeling bad when they do what they want regardless of the feelings or needs of others. I start to do it sometimes, but, my internal conscience usually gets me by the throat and the next thing you know I’ve changed my direction.
Case in point: when you have houseguests, shouldn’t you make a concerted effort to be a part of the conversation and stay up late enough to show you’ve made a decent effort to care that they’re there in your house as your guests? I have this secret pet peeve. Being the Mom in the house, it always seems to be my job to make sure everyone is fed well, comfortable and happy when they’re in my home. I think this is a throwback to growing up with the June Cleaver model. Last time I checked, the deed to the house was in two names, thus, two people should be responsible for the well fed, comfortable and happy guests. Correct? When my house is full of people, I spend most of my time planning menus, cooking or doing dishes because meals are something my guests look forward to. However, I’ve noticed that the rest of my family begin to take on the “guest” persona, too. They leisurely sit around the house, ignoring their regular chores like the taking out of trash or unloading of the dishwasher. They don’t bother to help entertain the guests by offering conversation or other activities while I’m busy . I have become a multitasker extraordinaire when in the kitchen. Yesterday, I found it interesting that while I was in the kitchen fixing dinner, there were two males sitting in the living room watching TV and when the phone rang they both yelled,”Mom, the phone’s ringing!” And the worst thing is when I’ve been up working all day and my loving spouse wakes from his nap in the recliner to announce he’s tired and just goes to bed, leaving me to entertain the guests alone.
Don’t get me wrong, everyone at my house loves to have guests. I love to have guests because they’re usually my children coming home to visit. I think the others that share my house love guests because that means a “mini vacation” from chores or other obligations. Ah, bliss! Reading, watching TV and lots of naps while the family hotel quietly operates around them. My, it must be quite a life! Maybe someday I’ll sit around the living room reading a book or watching TV and wait for someone to call me to breakfast, lunch or dinner. I’ll shovel my food in my mouth and then get up and return to my chair to watch a movie, leaving my other half at the table to visit with the company while they finish their meal. Then, I’ll pretend I don’t notice when the person that prepared the meal has to also go to the kitchen and clean up alone while everyone else is off having fun again. And when the phone rings…
Well, you get the picture.