Clark Kent’s Lunchbox

10¢

Throwing away empty boxes

I don’t know if this is some new form of recycling or what; all I know is that when I make out a grocery list I see a box of Pop-Tarts and think “we don’t need to pick any up.” Nope. We’re out, but will I ever know?

Putting dirty laundry in the basket

Come on, people. This is easier than 2+2... Good work math geniuses.

Taking their dinner cup to the sink

I mean I’m happy they go to all that effort to take their plates up to the sink, but that second trip to retrieve their glass is just too much to ask.

Turning off lights

They can flick boogers across the room, but using the same finger movement to switch off the lights when they leave for school seems to confound them.

Changing out the toilet paper roll

The best part is when I ask them what they’ve been cleaning their be-hinds with if the roll’s empty. It’s like a deer’s expression after stepping in front of a Peterbilt.

Flushing

…Because I love surprises.

Making their bed

In their minds, just getting the bedding off the floor apparently constitutes a correctly made bed. Yeah, you could totally bounce quarters off that mattress.

Putting snotty Kleenex in the trash

Next to the kids’ beds are Kleenex which they proceed to toss on the floor next to their bed. Hey, don’t worry; the maid will get it. Nice job trying to spread the plague.

Returning my comic books

Famous last words: “Sure, Dad, I’ll put them back. Promise.”

…Uh huh, sure you will.

Hanging up their wet bath towels

The hooks are right there, people! It’s like they throw them on the floor just to spite me.

Turning Off The Game Console

Basically when it’s time to stop playing video games they simply mic-drop the controller and walk off.

Picking Up Things They Drop

For some odd reason once something hits the floor it’s somehow tainted. Food & eating utensils I understand, but when it’s a pen or pencil they just let it lay there as they proceed to pull out a new one from their backpack.

Getting trash all the way into the can

Yet another example of why “close” only counts in horse shoes and hand grenades.

I love my children. They are a bright bunch; so maybe one day my words will sink in. Maybe.

At Clark Kent’s Lunchbox

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