Being Lazy Takes Practice

            Coming home the other day I told my sons that when we arrived at home that we all four were going to clean out the van. It was turning to spring and was a nice enough day that we weren’t going to freeze doing it. Nothing much, some trash, extra clothes that had been left, the occasional water bottle, easy stuff. Drew is lazy, really lazy. He is so dramatic in his laziness that I am constantly impressed with the lengths he’ll go to avoid any amount of work. He is very Shakespearian in his performances. Hand on his forehead, big, deep, cleansing breaths, stretching out to his full length on the couch or floor saying “I just can’t” and things of that nature. We continued to drive in silence for a little while when Drew spoke up from the back seat saying “I think that I’ll just get dad to pitch to me for a while until you all are finished cleaning out the van.” Quite matter-of-fact, quite grown-up in his delivery, quite wrong in his assumption. I told him that he could either help all of us or he would do it all by himself and we would watch him. This didn’t go over well but it did hit home with the little slacker. He was in-charge of the recycle.