A couple of weeks ago, I finally moved in with my husband, which was supposed to be the beginning of a wonderful chapter in our lives. I had no idea that my husband’s 15-year-old son from a previous marriage, named Dave, would prove to be a difficult obstacle to overcome. Though I knew there would be some period of adaptation, I did not expect such an attitude towards my efforts to make the house our cozy place in the form of piles of garbage that Dave, as if on purpose, left scattered throughout the house.
At first, I thought it was a temporary situation, perhaps a teenager’s version of chaos. But days turned into weeks, and the mess only seemed to grow. Empty chip bags, crumpled papers, and discarded clothes adorned every corner of our once-pristine home. It was as if a tornado of teenage negligence had swept through, leaving behind a debris field that would shock even a loving mother.
My comments and requests for cleanliness had no effect on him at all. It was like talking to a wall. I wanted to stop this and somehow decided to act outside the box.
One day, when Dave left for school, I came up with a plan. I was going to defeat this trash invasion, which required a strategy that went beyond mere words. Wandering around the house, armed with trash bags and determination, I picked up every piece of clutter that had settled into our home. I was on a mission to teach Dave a lesson in responsibility.
His room, the center of chaos, was my first target. When I walked in, I was greeted by clothes strewn across the floor, a maze of crumpled papers, and a collection of half-empty soda cans. Without pleasure, but with a feeling of determination, I began to put all the items that were scattered in garbage bags. Papers, cans, his clothes, everything was packed into the bags together. In the end, the room gradually turned from a disaster zone into something resembling order. I packed all the scattered clothes with other trash in a bags.
A similar fate befell the living room, kitchen, and even the bathroom. It was a time-consuming task, but I was sure that if words could not reach him, perhaps these bags would show him how much of a mess he left behind.
Mom goes to the bathroom to nurse her child, and a waitress slips her husband a note.
Jackie Johnson-Smith was treated to an unanticipated act of kindness while dining with her family at a pizza restaurant in Iowa.
She shared a picture of the restaurant bill along with the statement, “I have breastfed three children,” on Facebook. I have cared for them in countless situations, both public and private, at happy and unhappy times. Even though I’ve had a lot of looks and stares, tonight dispels all of that bad vibe. It was my first time eating at Fongs tonight. I spent some time in the booth nursing my grumpy baby before getting up early to avoid disturbing the other diners.
“The waitress gave this receipt to my hubby. I couldn’t talk because I was so upset. I don’t deserve a pat on the back for feeding my child, but it felt amazing. The final words of the letter were, “It’s amazing how women can empower and feel for one another.
The message was written by waitress Bodi Kinney, who told KCCI 8 News in Des Moines, “We need to come together and support each other when it comes to nursing our children.”
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