The other day BB told me that he and his son have been discussing fear and disasters and bad guys. The kind of things that we all worry about. We agreed that at one point or another we have told our children that keeping them safe is our job, and that we take that job very seriously.
That got me to thinking about my girls. They have jobs, absolutely. And they take them very seriously, too.
It is my girls' jobs to change their likes in food at random, without warning, so that whatever they liked last week won't be consumed this week.
It is my girls' jobs to fight in public, especially a place where it is important to be quiet, so that I can't yell at them or smack them, which maximizes my embarrassment and frustration.
It is my girls' jobs to beg me to purchase an article of clothing so that they can take it home, hang it in the closet, and never wear it again, claiming that they don't like it or that it doesn't fit, even though it fit just fine in the dressing room.
It is my girls' jobs to bring home stray animals and make them into pets that I have to take care of.
It is my girls' jobs to use my expensive sewing scissors to cut paper, dulling the blades. And this job is only done properly if they do this without my knowledge so that I discover that the blades are dull just after I have satin fabric laid out for a project.
It is my girls' jobs to drip nail polish all over the dining table, preventing me from spending my hard earned money on a new one anytime soon.
It is my girls' jobs to leave rocks in their jeans pockets so that the dryer sounds like the Starship Enterprise breaking up upon reentry.
It is the Not-So-Little-One's job to sing as loudly and as off key as she can muster so that her musician mother suffers an aneurism.
It is the Little One's job to leave everything she owns right in front of her bedroom door so that her parents can practice their mad dance moves when the come in to wake her up in the morning.
It is my girls' jobs to announce that they need to visit the restroom - the restroom that is near the entrance to the store - when we are all the way at the back of the store.
It is the Little One's job to stand as close to the edge of cliff as possible when we go hiking in the hills, knowing full well that I suffer from a true phobia and will have a full-blown anxiety attack on the spot.
And it is my girls' jobs to compete for everything - attention, allowance, praise, space, time, snacks, you name it.
Yes, my girls take their jobs very seriously. And they do them really well! But every now and again they perform some of those other "duties not otherwise specified," like sharing or praising each other or sticking up for each other or hugging their mom after a bad day. Looks like they are earning their keep.