OREO COOKIES

     As they say in Russia: "Дела идут, контора пишет..." OK, I'll translate: "It's business as usual!"
     Day after day, I wake up and start to worry of what to make Reina for breakfast (Roberta refuses to eat anything except my oatmeal, Sonny eats breakfast at lunch and Hanah is on a diet of my shakes and bars; so I just have to feed Reina, who comes from a different country and whose eating preferences are a mystery to me). 
     We rarely have any appointments for Roberta. I think, she is getting antsy, just sitting in or on her bed, watching unending episodes of Family Feud or playing unending games of Solitaire on her KIndle. I might need to bring her to see some doctors, to add excitement to her life!

     That leaves me washing dishes and, time to time, yelling "S-o-o-o-n-n-y-y-y-y!" He helps a lot, but it takes much in the way  of my nerves and vocal exercises to get him moving. I didn't realize it, but I yell for him so loudly, that people around me are left reeling from a sonic boom! 
     It's pointless to call Hanah's name. She does not move, even under me poking and shaking her. I tried to tell her: "Hanah, I just need your opinion on something!" Then, after she judged that an

Can you see her under the pillows?
It's a reverse of Princess and a Pea

appropriate amount of time between my request and her response passed, I heard her careful "Wha-a-t?", - coming from under a blanket. 
   

More sleeping beauties:

   

       I mentioned my problems with the kids to Mr. P. He taught me to use oreo cookies. Yes, you heard me: oreo cookies!
Do you all know, what an oreo cookie looks like? It consists of two thin cookies and vanilla cream layer in between them. So....
     You say, for example: "Hanah, I am really happy to have you back home! It's so good to spend time with you again! 
That's the first cookie. Then  instead of BUT, you say: AND!
     "and I would appreciate very much if you helped me with housework. You are not my child anymore (don't faint), you are my grown up daughter, and you should have some grown up

responsibilities while you are at home". 
     That was the vanilla cream layer of the oreo.
     You continue: "So, maybe after we take care of some chores, we can go to a cafe or do something fun, huh?" Another cookie finishes the tirade.
     That way, you sandwich a lesson between complements or offers of fun, and the object of your talk, finally, hears you and feels good about your relationship.
     What do you think? It should help, right? 
     I wanted to see, if the oreo cookie method works, but, unfortunately, before I left for an appointment with Mr. P. I told the kids that a church elder might come to our house, so they'd better clean up (it was a lie: the church elder was Roberta's acquaintance, and he just wanted to talk to her on the phone). I felt a little bad about my lie, but the result was spectacular! When I came back, the house was spotless (as much as MY house can be), and kids sat primly in the living room. They even took showers and brushed teeth!