the horse has left the barn

IKEA island on the Floor of Contention

A couple years ago, I was invited to an awards luncheon with several colleagues.  All the others at the lunch were also parents of teens or young adults, and at one point the discussion turned toward curfews and illicit nighttime activities and house rules and such.  Wild oats, all that.  My own son was about to leave for college, and it suddenly hit me: "Oh, my gosh, guys!  I forgot to give that kid a curfew!  I just forgot!"

When I reported this conversation to a friend, he asked, "And what did your friends say to that, Nicole?  Did they poke you with a fork?!"  

I was reminded of the curfew incident this week because I read this nifty post about my friend Sarah's chore / allowance system — wildly successful, as Sarah and her family have been feasting on excellent meals made by her oldest son.  I am, let's say, attracted to these types of systems.  And I also have a sick need for "pretty" things.  So naturally, I started perseverating about how one might make those cards super-fancy-pretty.  Fonts.  I thought about fonts.  And color-coding.  

But at the same time, I knew that because my son is only with me half the week, this system probably wouldn't really work; I didn't spend time manufacturing pretty cards.  (Epic self-control, if I may say so.)  But I thought about them.  Oh, gosh.  And I thought about the projects that I had hoped we'd finish by the end of the summer.  

At some point during my think-thinking, I mentioned the IKEA kitchen island that has been sitting unfinished in the kitchen for three years.  My younger son said, "Well, we have sandpaper, so if you could pick up a couple good paint brushes, I will finish it today."  

Really?!

"This is easy.  I've finished airplanes, you know."

Oh.  Right.  And here I'd just resigned myself to the idea that sixteen is the age of Maximum Uselessness in the human male.

So, the chore cards.  Yeah.  That horse has left the barn.  

Clearly he needs more challenging projects.  I've lived with the kitchen Floor of Contention — a story for another day — for twenty years now.  

"How about this floor?  Could we replace this, you think?"  

Yes.  Yes, he could.

I could get used to this empty barn!  And here's the thing about parenting mess-ups:  curfew or no curfew, chores or no chores, they grow up anyway.  And competent young adults are pretty swell to have around.