Tikkabik

There are times when I feel like I've completely failed as a father. Such as:

When the phone rings and no one, including my eldest, who has a phone in his room, on his desk, within easy reach, bothers to pick it up, despite my having pled and begged them to answer it if their mother and I are not available;

When I wake up in the morning and find the kitchen table littered with the detritus of breakfast -- empty cereal boxes, half-filled bowls, bottles of milk and orange juice left to fester in the open air, despite my constant reminders for them to put that stuff away after they're done;

When I find they've dropped food on the kitchen floor/toys in the hallway/any manner of crap in the living room/the piles of shit that litter their rooms and not bothered to clean it up, preferring instead to let Mom and Dad's maid service take care of it;

When the dishes in the sink pile up to the point of not being able to operate the faucet anymore because the dishwasher needs to be emptied, and no one will do it until Bonnie or I raise our voices.

Honestly, I don't overindulge my children. I don't helicopter over them every moment of the day and I don't think they're totally precious, exceptionally gifted little wonders who shouldn't lift a finger for manual labor.

I think I've given them some reasonable guidelines to go with, some basic age-appropriate responsibilities to maintain. And I've tried to instill some sense of fraternal responsibility to each other and filial responsibility to us. I guess at the end of the day I've just done a lousy job.