Aselin

Today is the last day of school for my children. The first days of summer have such a sensation of freedom about them... unless you're a parent.

I'll admit that my children are much easier to handle now that their ages all fall in the double digits. Still, I know what's coming.

"Mom, I'm bored."
"Mom, there's nothing to do."
"Mom, don't make me do more chores."

It will go on and on and on.

The funny thing about it all is my children actually enjoy each other. They play very well together and by world standards are completely spoiled. Somehow, there is a kid code that insists that they have an insatiable desire to be entertained, be with friends and avoid work.

I wish I could say I was different, but as a former lazy child slob I sang the same song not too many years ago.

Somehow even the slothfullest among us can overcome these tendencies. I've actually held a job, kept my space tidy and upheld general rules of hygiene despite my parent's earlier predictions. The interesting aspect of this maturation is that my parent's cajoling had nothing to do with my rise to responsibility.

Magically, around college, I just outgrew it. The question for me as a parent is do I keep acting like one day they'll listen? Or, do the wiser thing and cut my losses?

Living in constant fear that one or more of them will live with us until they're 40 means I can't give up. While my nagging likely has little impact on the final outcome, it will have a profound impact on any notions they might develop that living with me after the age of 18 is remotely desirable.

So kids, enjoy your summer of scrubbing toilets, working on math drills, and picking up dog poop. I'm merely reinforcing the idea that you'll want to do more with your life.

Until of course, you become parents yourselves.