Clean-up Time

Clean-up time is the most dreaded part of my day.  I get the same reaction every single day.  It never changes.  Right around 4:30 every afternoon I call out the horrifying words that strike fear in all of us. "It's time to clean up!  Daddy will be home soon!"  And a slew of fits, gasps, and tantrums follow.   I have the oldest complaining that he's not done playing yet.  The youngest is almost in tears yelling, "But it's too hard!"  And in the middle of these two boys writhing around in protest, the Heavens open and a ray of light shines down upon the head of my middle child.   He is standing in the midst of chaos looking at me with a smile on face.  He walks toward me, wraps his sweet little arms around me, looks into my eyes and says, "Okay Mama.  I'll clean up for you."  You know, I was a middle child as well.  Middle children are near perfect.  We want our Mama's to be happy when there is strife.  We want our siblings to see that we are the favorite.  After my hug from my near perfect child, I will usually say in a very loud voice, "Thank you Zane!  You are such a good boy to obey Mommy with such a happy heart. I appreciate you and love you."  That usually starts the clean-up process among the other two.  I get "Look Mommy, I'm cweaning" from my youngest, and silent groans from the oldest as things are being thrown into the toy drawers.   Yesterday as I relished in the sounds of toys being cleaned and boys obeying, I hear Zane say, "I'll put your shoes away for you Mommy." (Oh, that sweet boy!)  The next thing I know my shoe is sailing through the air, being thrown as hard as a five year old can throw, slamming into the front door.  I hear my voice calling out in slow motion.... "Noooooo!  Those are from Italy!!!"  "Oops!  Sorry Mom. "  The Heavens close, and the ray of light diminishes.