It’s a beautiful day. It’s still early and cold enough to freeze eggs in the un-henned nest box, but it’s a beautiful day. And I am assembling an arsenal of boycritter bait. An opportunist Mama, I am. See this right here?This, my friends, is boycritter bait, a la Mark Twain. Ryan also has a friend over for the weekend. Add in some healthy competition, mini mob mentality, and the fact that I am smart enough to fuel the work force with junk food and the promise of homemade brownies and I should have scored myself a whirling dervish workforce times TWO. And Ryan’s poultry pleasure palace should have a pristine coat of Barn Red.
It took approximately 14.6 seconds after I began assembling the tools for Mom’s outdoor sweatshop for THIS to happen:
“Ooooooh…is that paint? Are you painting today”
“Erm…maybe. Why do you ask, boys?”
“Can we help? Pleeeassse?”
It’s at this point the prudent person looking for cheap labor should resist. Just the tiniest bit. This makes the potential drudgery seem an even more attractive way to spend a Saturday.
“Well, I don’t know. It’s kind of a big job over there. And you guys would get paint on yourselves, it’s pretty cold too. Do you think you can do it and follow directions, so it gets done the right way? It’s pretty important for me to get this done today and I just don’t know if ya’ll can do it.”
“Oh, we can, we promise…C’mon Ma, puh-leeeeeze? Pretty please? We’ll be really good and we’ll listen and do a great job. Honest!”
Reverse psychology is now your friend.
“Well, I guess it would give me some spare time to do other stuff. Like maybe make brownies.”
They’re jumping and whooping now. And hunting for paint clothes. Well played, Mom. Well played.