Jar

I was calmly serving plates last night as the children (minus Caroline) were gathering at the table.  William was telling a story when out of his mouth came a not so nice word.  Christopher jumped on it--now you would assume that he jumped on William, but then you probably haven't been around our family enough to know that you should never assume.  Not William but me--yes I'm the one who received Christopher's tongue lashing (brings a whole new meaning to the often heard phrase "it's always the mother's fault.").
"See Mom!" bellowed Christopher, "This is what I was talking about last night.  You let this stuff happen.  You have to stop it!"  Now some of you are probably wondering how I have the power to force William to use profanity so I can "let" it happen--others of you are waiting to learn how I'm going to just stop it--powers for some reason Christopher seems to think I have, and you're not alone.  But, in order to understand this story I have to go back a night.

Two nights ago we were at Mellow Mushroom when Caroline said a not so appropriate word in general and particularly out of a young lady's mouth.  Christopher has been quite bothered by her lack of a filter for a long time.  He turned to me, backed by Sarah Katherine, "Mom, you would have yanked us out of here, grounded us, yelled at us--why do you let her talk like that?!?!?!"  After I explained to him that "let" was clearly the wrong verb, I told him that I wasn't pleased with it, but that my reaction was different based on the fact that there were not younger children being exposed (clearly said youngest child has already been exposed and has drunk the kool-aid).

Back to last night--Christopher very seriously said, "We have to stop talking like this, and soon.  What if someone came into this house at dinner time and we forgot we weren't alone?"  I'm not quite sure how we could forget, but...He continued, "We have to stop cursing and just saying grouse things--especially Caroline."  "Yeah," Sarah Katherine chimed in, "She's the worst."  "She is," added William.  This took us down another rabbit hole of repeating all the inappropriate things Caroline has said in the past few weeks.  (Now keep in mind, Caroline isn't even here AND as the youngest I'm fairly certain she learned much of what she says from the three now holding court in the judgement seat.)

"I think," continued Christopher, "We should make people pay every time they curse.  Actually they should pay every time they say something about sex or anything inappropriate."  Sarah Katherine jumped right on this band wagon, "We can use the jar the Fiscus gave us."  (This jar which sits on the counter empty was supposed to be a jar to collect memories of the year--we've already failed at that--perhaps it was because I've been too busy letting my children say inappropriate things.)  William, not to be out done and clearly having forgotten that he was the catalyst for this entire conversation jumped in, "A dollar every time you use profanity."  Now I'm not sure what's wrong with the word profanity, but I must admit I'm middle aged--because SK jumped back in making fun of what William said, "And we should also make people pay if they say something stupid like that!"  "Definitely" agreed Christopher, "and William you owe for saying that."

Throughout this conversation Chris and I were trying to point out that none of them ever had money, so we weren't sure how this was going to work. (They decided for every dollar they had to put in they had to give us an hour of work without whining--I'm thinking that's slave labor wages, but I wasn't saying a word--I was thinking about windows being washed and baseboards cleaned). Deciding I should just embrace this, at least for tonight,  I began trying to straddle my priest and mama roles suggested we then give the money to the church at the end of every month--I'm fairly certain based on the past few dinner times that we could rescue any church from financial disaster within a matter of months.  "No" said Christopher,"the person who has to put the least in gets to keep the money at the end of the month."  The others definitely jumped on that. Not only did they think this was a great idea, but every time someone said something during this conversation they considered any of the above criteria, they shouted "Jar!" at them.

Back to Christopher's idea for the competition, shocking that it took this long for it to turn into a competition--I was having fantasies of all the color coded charts I could make to keep up with who put money in and what was said--Chris, however, said, "And who gets to decide who is jarred.?"  "We'll vote" everyone shouted.   Chris going right along with this whole thing obviously forgetting the THEY HAVE NO MONEY EVER problem, said, "well Mama and I get veto power."

I spent the next few minutes looking around the table where wheels were obviously turning in each of their minds as they were already planning the things they would buy with all this money; I suspect, they were also trying to figure out how they could subtly encourage others to say inappropriate things.  I was still trying to get them to consider charities.  They kept shouting "Jar" at each other whenever anyone said just about anything.  They were talking so fast and so loudly and over each other, that my mind was having a hard time keeping up--really need those color coded charts.  I'm fairly certain Chris and I never fully agreed to this whole idea, but apparently the children only think we have power to "let" people say inappropriate things, because they weren't waiting for our approval/permission, they were too busy "Jarring" each other.

As we were getting up from the table I tried once again (just in case the idea does truly get off the ground)to return to the idea of charity.  "Ya'll I really think we should consider giving the money to charity."  William, "I'm a charity"  All four of us in concert, "JAR!"