MyThreeDaughters

It seems to me that there was an old Saturday Night Live skit called something like, “The Couple Who Wouldn’t Leave.” It was 2 a.m. or so, in somebody’s living room, and the host couple would hint around about going to sleep, and the visiting couple would say something like:
“Hey, got anything else to eat around here?”
Or, “Is that your phone? I’m going to make some long-distance calls.”
I wonder how that would play out, if the person was a first-grader. It might be even funnier, more rude, more shocking.
Like, if your wife brought home a friend of your first grader for a little after-school play. What if the first-grade visitor, before getting out of the car blurted out:
“Your yard looks bad.”
(Hey, you know, haven’t seen a lot of garden tours in December. Wonder why?)
For some reason, after this, my wife lets her in the house. She comes in, strips off her coat, throws it on the floor and runs upstairs.
(Make yourself at home, sweetie. Mi casa es su casa.)
Back downstairs, she looks around and declares: “This house is such a mess. Do you want me to clean it up?”
(Whatever my wife said was nicer than what I would have said, which would have been, “Sure, start with the basement. Try not to breathe in too much asbestos or lead paint.”)
Anyway, then the little charmer goes over to the fridge, opens it, and says: “What do you have for me to drink?”
Wife gives her some orange juice, and she goes off to play for a while, until she pops back in: “Next time I come back, I want more orange juice.”
Now, the Dad perspective here, the purely selfish Dad angle, is: This kind of behavior, this kind of day for the wife, really doesn’t make for a smooth entry home after a day at work.
It really doesn’t help with the overall, shall we say, household karma.