Lynn's Comments: It's strange how we slip from being careless and sloppy to fanatically clean. For years, I maintained a house so tidy you could enter any room and find every last thing in place. My lingerie was rolled, folded and colour coordinated, my linens were in perfect piles, my bathroom cabinets immaculate. Even if it was out of sight, my stuff was in order. Now that I live on my own, however, I have reentered the "who gives a ****" phase of life and I view my habitation much as I did as a kid of 10. I haven't made my bed since last week. My work has spilled into the dining room where I can easily get to it and if the dishes sit on the counter overnight...ehhh! I don't do laundry until I run out. I don't pick stuff up until I have to - and I can only describe this lack of decorum as liberating. The other day as I was leaving my bedroom comfortably littered, I distinctly heard my mother say "For heaven's sake stop living like a hermit and take care of this mess!" I thought about all the times I railed at my own kids for living in squalor and I sympathized with them. No matter how well you pick up after yourself, a place is going to deteriorate. I figure "what's the point?" So, like a kid, I only clean up if I have to. My incentive is company. Every time the mess gets to the point of no return, I invite friends for dinner. It's time again to shovel out, so...yesterday, I bought steak.
Lynn's Comments: For some reason, stinking socks are funny... much like burps and toots. In truth, the fact that kid's footwear did give off noxious gasses surprised me. But, then again, kids and odors go together like dogs and fleas. My son could wear a pair of socks until they were stiff and no amount of washing could restore the colour, no matter what it was. I dragged dirty socks into the text several times and each time readers reacted with comments like; "Whoa! this happens at your house, too?"!
Lynn's Comments: This cartoon was done specifically as a message to my son. Word for word, grimace for groan, I expressed my outrage in the most visible and lasting way possible. When the strip appeared in the Toronto Star, I showed it to him hoping that he would be shocked into changing his evil ways. I said that millions of people had read it and now knew about the way he treated his laundry--and ME! Aaron read the dialogue thoroughly and said, "I get the gag, Ma, but what's your point?"
Lynn's Comments: Once again, my son's words, written exactly as spoken, gave me a perfectly good Sunday page.