The Stairs.

I like to play a game with my family that I call, The Stairs.

One problem.

I am the only one playing.

I put things on my stairs as a gentle reminder to my adorable family that they need to be brought up.

Upon reaching the stairs, my entire family turn into Helen Keller, and can not hear my requests or see the road blocks I have so caringly laid out before them.

They turn into parkour masters and easily manage to avoid my blocked passage. It is like the scene in the movie where the main character is trying to pull off a heist and has to avoid all those red laser beams to get to the loot. So they twist and jump and roll over to avoid them.

My kids go and up and down the stairs approximately ONE million times a day, and their toys from Christmas still lay there, unnoticed.

I remember my Mom playing this game. I remember her saying she was the only one playing.

I remember being younger and seeing things on the stairs.

I remember stepping directly over those things and happily going into my room. Upon entry to my bedroom, I would hear, "Did you not see there was stuff on the stairs?" I didn't answer. Hoping that my silence would make her think I wasn't there.

"Get downstairs and bring this up, I know you hear me Cynthia." she would quickly say.

When I hear the saying, what goes around comes around, I have never felt that shit deeper in my soul now that I am a parent.

So I wait.

I guess I will be waiting for the next 20 years, until one of my kids has kids, then they too, will eventually be playing the game.

At that point I will be retired. At that point I will be laughing.

Then they too, will be playing the game alone.

Till then, please tell me I am not alone in this game? Please?

Xoxo,

C.