Mean vs. Clean

Well, Mean Mommy strikes again.

You won't believe what I did this time.

First, I allowed my son to play outside the entire day. 

I even lent him my husband (okay, his father, too).  All day, they worked at his pond.  They've been digging dirt, laying rock, and having a general all-around good time.  (If you're into that sort of thing.  I worked on the chicken coop roof while longingly thinking of all the cooking shows I could be watching and knitting I could be doing.) 

Then, I allowed the work to wind down and the clock to approach evening. 

And then.  The worst of all.  In light of how filthy he was . . .

I sent him upstairs for a shower. 

Wait.  It gets worse.

When he arrived an astounding 90 seconds later with all the dirt that had lightly covered his neck and face now forming muddy little rivers running down his face and neck . . .

I sent him back up to shower again.

I know.  How hard would it have been for me to simply smile approvingly at my dirt-streaked son and be grateful that he is mine.  I mean, what is more important?  Furniture, clothing, bedding, and overall house cleanliness, not to mention personal hygeine habits or simply being tolerant, allowing for indiviual differences?  How superficial of me. 

And then you won't believe what I did next. 

Yes, that's right.  Look away if you're squeamish.

When he returned still dirty yet again, I, yep, sent back upstairs.  Again. 

I am so mean, I was not even swayed by the sighs, the sudden limpness in the spine and shoulder area, or even the tears darkened with dirt.

He's upstairs now, taking his third shower in a whole 6 minutes. 

That's okay. 

I may be mean, but my boy will be clean.