Boy, Do I Love Summer

During the school year, the boys are up and in the kitchen when I am so I can gently remind them over and over and over to empty the dishwasher or put away the cereal boxes, or whatever.  When I left the house this morning, the boys were still in their rooms so I left notes for them.

On the Countertop

On the Pantry Door

On the Fridge

On the T.V.

All four notes were within viewing distance of the others. They all read the same thing:

I was starting small.  Feed the Dogs.  Just the one thing.  Didn't care about the dishes, didn't care if they were dressed, didn't care if their teeth were brushed, Didn't care if there was food all over the counter.  Just Feed the Dogs.

So I walked into the house and:

Me, "Didn't you feed dogs?"
Tom, <making a long, loud, disgusted noise which loosely translates to  "God, you're such a pain in the ass."
Sam, "Huh?"
Me, "I left notes all over the place."
Boys, "I didn't see them."
Me, "Your cereal bowl is sitting half on one of them."
Boys, <grunts>
Me, "You're playing video games! Who took the note off the t.v., crumpled it up and threw it on the coffee table?"
Boys, "Not me."
Me, "Well, I know it wasn't one of the dogs.  You know how I know that?  I know that because they want to be fed."
Boys, <more grunting>
Me, "FEED THE DOGS!!"
Boys, "Jeez, you woke up in a bad mood."

I'm moving out until school starts up again.