You are not the boss of me! Damn it.

Open letter to my husband and son who are both sitting on my last nerve:

Okay guys, I am fed up. I've had it. Up to HERE. Roger, DH, I am tired of you speaking to me as if I'm your subordinate. I am your equal. Read that again. I am your equal. I did not marry you so that I could spend the rest of my life picking your dirty underwear and socks up off the floor. I did not marry you to put all of your dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I did not marry into a life of servitude. And if I'm not your slave, then you'd better start paying me. Cause housekeepers, cooks and landscapers are bringing home pretty good salaries these days. And I am tired of doing all this shit for nothing. I'm not asking for you to pay me in cash. What I want is a tiny bit of appreciation and recognition for what I do around here. What I REALLY want is for you guys to keep things clean for a few hours. Having this house look great to sell is WORK and if I'm doing all of that work, you two have got to at least maintain it. I'd like to feel a little support here, too. A hug now and then wouldn't be a bad idea either.
Ryan, dear son of mine, you are 19 years old. I am not YOUR servant either. All I've asked you to do is make your bed and put your dirty clothes in the hamper. I've been dusting and vacuuming your room and cleaning your bathroom---at least make it easier for me to do. I'm tired of picking up all your crap daily just so I can see the damned floor. I know you do not want to move and that you feel it is a great sacrifice for you to do so. But consider this: The money we will make on this house will more than pay for your college education. It means you will not have student loans to pay off when you graduate from college, which means you will start your adult life free of debt. Which believe me, is a HUGE deal. So quit acting like a spoiled brat and start acting more like the adult you want to be treated as.

I love you both, but get this straight---YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!