She Knows

One of the most frustrating things about Daughter is she knows what she needs to do. She knows what I expect. She got up this morning and was eating breakfast as I was doing various things in the kitchen. I opened a lower cupboard to get a plastic container out, and once again things fell out on the floor. I've told her several times she needs to reorganize, which she proudly does every so often, and then immediately begins just throwing things in when she empties the dishwasher. I didn't say a word, but when she finished breakfast, she got down on the floor and emptied out all the plastic containers. Of course, she emptied them onto the middle of the kitchen floor, where I am trying to work. Have I mentioned we have a small kitchen? Have I mentioned that I am short?

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So I reach over her to put water into the ice tea maker. I can't reach the button, so I go around to the other side to push the button. Recognizing that she is in the way, she storms upstairs and slams her bedroom door, leaving everything on the floor (see picture above). Neither of us has said a word.

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I move into the living room, and hear her come back downstairs and throw everything back into the cabinet, slamming the cupboard door, and then retreating back upstairs to once again slam her bedroom door. There still haven't been any words spoken by either one of us. She returned downstairs and this time organized the items in the cabinet. Unfortunately, she put all my mixing bowls on the shelf at the back of the cabinet, making them very difficult to get at. I haven't said anything, as I'm tired of hearing doors slam. I'm tired. Today I'm a MOTE.

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