As a teenager, I had a step-mother only ten years my senior. Which was like having a sister with the power of a mother. Not a good combination. Needless to say, we had a complicated, volatile relationship and one of the things I most remember about it was learning that I don’t really like anyone telling me what to do. Even if I am just about to do it myself, once someone else makes it a requirement, I lose all interest in doing it. Ever. When my step-mother, let’s call her “Batty,” was around, I would walk past a basket of laundry and think to myself, “I am going to fold those clothes.” It never failed that at that exact moment Batty would say something about me having to fold the clothes before I could do anything else and then someone would have had to break my arm to get me to do what I was walking across the room to do five seconds before I was told I had to. It’s not m
ature or healthy, but I have to own it. At the junior high, we have a rotating schedule for collecting recycling from the outside cans, but I am often happy to do it just because. Unless it is my week. Then I balk and chafe at having to do it. What is that?! In Julie Sykes’ I don’t want to take a bath, Little Tiger is my won’t-do-it-if-you-tell-me-to soulmate. Just don’t tell him he has to be.
http://www.amazon.com/I-Dont-Want-Take-Bath/dp/1888444207
http://www.juliesykes.co.uk/
