Acts of Futility

Fu-til-i-ty, n.: uselessness as a consequence of having no practical result

I have discovered that being a mother is often an exercise in futility. Often times each day I wonder why I even attempted to get anything done. Don't believe me? You are free to borrow one or both of my children at any time to attempt one or more of the following activities:

Clean your toilets. This is especially difficult with the smaller of the two.

Fold clothes. Folding any item less than three times before putting it away is rare, but should be counted as a major feat.

Make brownies without "help". This is a project that four-year-olds just can't get enough of.

Put toys away. Enough said.

Open the fridge and close it. Not a hard task, you say? You haven't ever done it with my son in the room.

Sweep, mop or vacuum. Take your pick. You will always have someone in the way (usually making a mess on your previously cleaned floor).

Keep your heat vent covers in place. I have resorted to taping mine down. Why are boys fascinated by these things?

My children are free at any time if you wish to attempt any item on the list above. I guarantee you will wonder why you set out to accomplish anything while they are within hearing distance. I am also available to deliver and pick-up said children at your earliest convenience.