Responsibility? No thanks.

A lot of growing up takes place between ‘it fell’ and ‘I dropped it’.”

I read that anonymous quote in Reader’s Digest when I was still in high school. And it turns out I’ve been saying it wrong all these years — There’s a lot of growing up between ‘it fell’ and ‘I dropped it’ — but who cares? the meaning is the same.

Personal responsibility is such a foreign concept to most people these days — well any day probably. Unless, of course, there’s a reward attached to it. “Who flooded the fourth floor bathroom?” I’ll give you the three most likely suspects: Not Me, I Don’t Know and Nobody. You may remember them from Family Circus or your own house. “Whoever came up with this plan to save the company a million dollars a year gets a bonus.” You’re gonna need Solomon to cut that baby in pieces. Lisa and I are trying desperately to raise “I dropped it” girls.

The other day I walked through the living room to find a pedestal fan lying on the floor. I stood it up — no extraneous effort, no hyper masculine strength required. We have three rowdy cats and a large-ish rambunctious dog. Any combination of which could knock that fan over and leave it behind. Cats are by nature irresponsible turds. The dog lacks opposable thumbs. My experience, however, led me to believe the perpetrator was bipedal.

I knew who didn’t do it — my wife. She’d walk back in there and knock it over again if she wanted to. Maintaining eye contact the entire time. She’s not scared of me. Further, I knew the most likely culprit. I went into the kitchen and asked “Who knocked the fan over?” Lisa turned from the stove, looked at me and went back to cooking supper. I told you; I don’t scare her a bit. The younger one came out of her homework long enough to say, “Not me.” Suspect Number One, present and accounted for. The older one never broke stride loading the dishwasher: “Maybe I did it.” Plausible deniability — not exactly a new tactic.

“You felt something hit your butt and one point three seconds later you heard a crash — you don’t see how those two things could be related?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“I knocked over the fan.”

“I know that. Everyone here knows that. What I’d like to know is WHY?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you leave it lay there and why did you lie about knocking it over?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve got to do better than that. You don’t act like this anywhere but here. At work you’re responsible. When you watch your cousins you’re responsible. Why are you like this here?”

“I don’t know.”

Imagine that, I thought. “You need to figure it out. And do better.”

I don’t get it. These aren’t new lessons we’re trying to teach them. We’ve tried to instill this in them since toddlerhood. Pick up. Clean up. Tell the truth. Just DO what you’re supposed to do. I understand laziness or putting things off. But this is an entirely different animal running rampant in my house — and society at large.

I don’t know who’s to blame for this foolishness. Is it Helicopter Moms? Participation Trophies? The Breakdown of the Nuclear Family? Oh wait, yes I do: Not Me, I Don’t Know and Nobody.