Welcome to a monthly Fly on the Wall group post. Today 9 bloggers are inviting you to catch a glimpse of what you’d see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes. Come on in and buzz around my house. At the end of my post you’ll find links to this month’s other participants’ posts.
Hubs was out of town and I noticed that he'd left the sweat shirt he wears in the evening after work in the closet. I decided this would be a good time to wash it.
I grabbed it out of the closet and while I was upstairs I decided to take his bath towel and hand towel too.
I brought it all downstairs and caught myself just as I was throwing it all into the trash . . .
Thus the new rule in our house: no laundry decisions before coffee.
I seriously hate the whole coffee conundrum. I need coffee running through my veins in order to function, but before I'm able to function, I don't have enough coffee in my veins to even get coffee into my veins.
Like this week. I poured my coffee, but somewhere between the kitchen and the couch, I lost it. I sat on the couch, looked at side table and no coffee. So I went back to the kitchen. No coffee. Bathroom? No. Laundry room? No. What the hell. It couldn't have gone upstairs or downstairs.
Ah, of course. I dropped it off in the pantry.
Sunday evening I set up the coffee to brew at 7:00 am Monday morning like I always do.
At 7:00 Sunday evening, I heard the coffee brewing and I knew I'd screwed up. Hubs, College Boy and PurDude were all home.
Me (yelling): Oh no. Damn. No, no, no. Stop.
{{Nothing. No one comes, no one asks what's going on}}
Me (still yelling): Crap. Stop doing that damnit. What a waste. Damn, damn damn.
{{still nothing}}
And that's when the truth hit me. I could drop dead on the kitchen floor and no one would notice until they ran out of underwear. Or got hungry.
College Boy tends to be a little stingy with his hugs. PurDude not so much, but then PurDude isn't home as much.
Anyway, sometimes I'll ask College Boy for a hug and he'll refuse. If "pleeeaaasssee" (said in a whiny toddler voice) doesn't work, I may have to threaten to dance. Yeah, you read that right. Usually it ends in protestations that I shouldn't even try to do things I know I can't, rolled eyes and him walking from the room shaking his head. Sometimes I get the hug.
Yesterday it was broiling hot out and College Boy had waited until afternoon (ie: when he woke up) to mow the lawn. He comes in with sweat having soaked his clothes and poured down his face.
You'd think he wouldn't have the strength to torture me, but no such luck.
College Boy (arms wide): How about a hug, Mom.
Me: No. Yuck. You're drenched in sweat.
College Boy (in a whiny toddler voice): Pleeeaaasssee!
Me: Gross. Go take a shower.
College Boy: I'll dance . . .
What a mess. I went to take the clothes out of the dryer and apparently someone had left a small chocolate Easter egg in their pocket. Just what I wanted, brown tie-dyed clothes and underwear that looked. . . well, you get the picture.
I question both boys and they both denied it? Really? I mean, they're grown up, just admit that you made a mistake, that you forgot the candy was in your pocket.
Me: It was neither of you?
PurDude: Not me.
College Boy: It wasn't me.
Me: Fine, so I'll tell Dad neither of you will admit to it and are both blaming him.
Hubs comes home and I start to tell him the story of the kids blaming him for the candy in the dryer.
Me: I had a mess on my hands today. You know those little chocolate Easter eggs? I had to clean one out of the dryer and rewash the clothes. I thought the boys were supposed to be grown up, but they're blaming . . .
Hubs (interrupting): Oh, no, that was me.
Me: Huh?
Hubs: Oops. Someone gave it to me yesterday.
Me: You don't even eat candy.
Hubs: And now you know how it ended up in my pocket.
No Bake Spiced Peach Pie
The boys and I are opposites when it comes to conversation. I never use a few words when I can use many. They never use many when they can use a few.
After a rare dinner that included all of us in the same place at the same time in which I tried and tried to start conversations and got one word answers, I was frustrated.
I caught PurDude later that night and thought maybe I could guilt him into having a longer conversation with me.
Me: You know, honey, I really would like to have a few good lengthy conversations with you while you're home, you know, in between your working and sleeping.
PurDude: OK.
Me: We do a lot for you, Dad and I and maybe you don't realize the sacrifices we make to send you to school so far away. School and everything associated with it is very expensive. When you're not home, we don't even eat.
PurDude (laughing): Try again, Mom. You do know you post pictures of food, right?
Me: That's not really food, I used colored construction paper to create what looks like food. But we can't afford the colored paper any more so I have to use white paper and color it with crayons. Pretty soon we won't be able to afford the white paper either, but I have a plan. I'm going to get up really early, steal the neighbors' newspapers and use that.
PurDude (laughing): What would you like to talk about Mom?
Guilt. It works every time!

We have always had our house cleaned. From the time we moved to the Midwest, in all 3 of our houses here, we leaned on Janet to keep our home spotless. When she died, I lost a friend. Janet was hard to replace. Eventually I did. But after a while, the new cleaner's attitude and temperament just got to me. We've parted ways. I have been having a very difficult time finding another cleaner who can live up to Janet's high standards.
The other day, Hubs came upstairs and saw me in the boys bathroom, on the floor by the toilet.
Hubs: Oh no, you're throwing up? Do you need me to help you into our room?
Me: I'm not sick, I'm cleaning the toilet.
Hubs: No, really.
Me: Yes, really.
College Boy: Remember when I called you from work tonight.
Me: Yes.
College Boy: I actually had a hard time doing it.
Me: Why?
College Boy: You know how the screen of my cell phone is cracked and I haven't had it fixed yet?
Me: Yes, you need to get that fixed.
College Boy: So I said "Siri, call Mom."
Me: OK, that doesn't sound hard.
College Boy: And Siri said "which one, you have seven."
Me: {{blink, blink}}.
Later I realized that maybe I need to have a talk with Siri. I need to find those other moms. It's their turn to pay for food and education, do his laundry . . .

College Boy and I were in the car. I love talking to him in the car because, unless he's going to jump out, he's stuck with me.
Me: I'm going to start my own business. Do you want to go into business with me?
College Boy: What are you going to do?
Me: I'm going to set up booths at all polling places on election day.
College Boy: OK. What are you going to sell? Cookies?
Me: No, something many people are going to need, barf bags.
College Boy: {{laughs}}
Me: You think I'm kidding? I'll make a fortune.
I'm in the kitchen making a batch of cookie dough when College Boy walks in.
College Boy: If I asked you a really big favor, would you do it?
Me: I don't know, what do you need?
College Boy: You don't know? You can't agree to do something for me, you're first born son, without knowing what it is? I'm hurt.
Me: Well, I'm in the middle of something here and knowing you, you could want me to do pretty much anything.
College Boy: Wow, trust issues much?
Me: Listen, I'm standing here making your favorite cookies out of the goodness of my heart, just tell me . . . what is it you want?
College Boy: Well, if it's too much trouble.
Me: OK, fine. You win. Whatever it is, I'll do it. So . . . what's this big favor?
College Boy: Don't put those cookies into the oven until I get out of the shower.
Now click on the links below for a peek into some other homes:
No Bake Spiced Peach Pie
©www.BakingInATornado.com
Printable Recipe
Ingredients:
1 box (11 oz) vanilla wafers, crushed into crumbs
3/4 stick butter, melted
8 oz cream cheese, room temperature
1 tsp vanilla
2 TBSP brown sugar
1/2 cup whipping cream
1 TBSP powdered sugar
5 large ripe peaches
2 TBSP Jim Beam Apple Bourbon (can substitute apple juice)
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/8 tsp ground cloves
3 TBSP cornstarch
Directions:
*Spray a 10 inch pie plate with non stick spray. Mix the cookie crumbs with the melted butter and press onto the bottom and up the sides of the pie plate. Refrigerate.
*Cut 2 - 4 slices of peach for garnish. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate. Skin and pit peaches, discard both.
*Chop the peaches and place in food processor with the bourbon, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. Process until not quite smooth. Place in saucepan on medium heat. Bring to a boil while whisking. Boil and whisk for 5 minutes.
*Mix the cornstarch with 3 TBSP cold water. Whisk into the peach mixture until thickened. Remove from heat and refrigerate.
*Beat the cream cheese with the vanilla and brown sugar. Set aside.
*In a separate bowl, beat the whipped cream with the powdered sugar until firm peaks hold. Fold into the cream cheese mixture.
*Remove peach mixture from the refrigerator and mix into the cream cheese mixture.
*Pour into pie crust and refrigerate for 2 hours before serving. Garnish center of the pie with the reserved peach slices. Store leftovers in the refrigerator.