Mondays!

I don't even know what I'm doing at this point, but I have nothing better to do.
I have another blog buddy! It's at http://fuzzfiles.blogspot.com/ and in one post he dared me to write a story about Monday. Consider this challenge accepted! (plus I don't mind harsh criticism)

A light breeze blew in from the open window, the cool spring air tickling Kidman's nose. His eyes opened and glanced out the window. The wind-chime made out of scratched CDs clacked, a smile spreading on the child's face. He rolled over and looked at the clock. 12:07. He made a noise of approval as he flopped onto his back and stared at the speckled ceiling. After thinking about going back to sleep, he rolled onto his side, a large pile of tainted clothing obstructing his vision.
"Honey, you need to get up, do you not notice all that garbage in your room?" His mother peeled the spotted sheets off of him and attempted to put more dirty clothes into his hamper. 
"I was gonna do that," He pushed himself off the bed and stacked the clothes into a holdable pile. Mother dearest nodded and grabbed whatever clothing fell on the long trek to the laundry room. Open the door, put clothes in, close door, add soap, add softener, wait for ding-er. Kidman pulled his phone out of his pocket and started texting.
>>To: Rich>> i'm doing laundry SMS
A mop was shoved into his face, which continued to contort as he realized what had just happened. A simple laundry day had become a clean up day. The sound of the mop smacking against the vinyl floor calmed him a bit. A vibration in his pants distracted him.
<<Received From: Rich<< SMS? what? I don't speak the teenager, young'un.
A snort erupted from Kidman as his finger tapped the screen
>>To: Rich>> "save my sanity" and change laundry to cleaning a house. come over
His fingers curled around the mop handle, his arms failing around. The floor wasn't being cleaned, but more of dampened.
<<Received From: Rich<< I'll be over soon, maybe, eventually.
The mop leaned against the couch and seemed to stare at the teen as a goofy smile found its way onto his face. He continued with mopping until a familiar voice rung through the house.
"I throw my bag onto the couch sometimes sayin' AAYOOOO 'Where is my Kid-do?'" Rich hummed looking for Kidman.
"I throw my clothes onto the floor sometimes sayin' AAAAYOOOOO 'Where'd my floor go?'" Kidman responded, both alerting Rich of his location and of the task at hand. They spread the work out, Kidman's mother giving Rich a few jobs to do aswell. They cleaned the floor, they did the laundry, they dusted the downstairs, they even found time to shampoo the carpet. Both exhausted they fell on the couch and started watching TV. Kidman glanced at the clock. 3:07. He laughed, "I've only been up for three hours." It was directed at no one in particular, but he got a response.
"That's crazy, you're crazy. You're going to die from too much sleep." Rich shoved Kidman's head to the side, a light shove, but it emphasized the point. Kidman just yawned and started to drift off to sleep.
"And, dude, where were you at school today?" Rich's words caused a burst of adrenaline through Kidman. There wasn't school today, it was a Saturday. Words were exchanged. Words like 'Monday' and 'not a workday' and 'you're special'. Kidman had never missed a day of school in his life, his perfect attendance would be ruined, all his Gold day classes would have missed work, nothing would ever be the same. As he was having a mini panic attack, Rich started laughing. 
"Bro! This isn't a time for laughter and merriment! My whole life is ruined!" Kidman punched him in the arm, his cloying laughter continuing.
"It's just funny, since it's Monday, and yet nothing happened at school."
Kidman stared at him, "What on earth are you talking about?"
Rich smiled and asked a simple question, "What did you do last history class?"
"Take a midterm," he paused and stared at his soon-to-be-ex-friend, "there is something wrong with you." Kidman's fists started flying, only a few actually making contact. The larger boy just laughed. "I swear, one day, you're going to do something like this and you won't have ankles to walk on."
Rich tried to sustain his breathing and forced out, "Ouch, any reason for that? I mean, other than your intense case of the 'gullibles'?"
Kidman scowled, "I don't like being messed with. Especially on Mondays."




Tell me how much peanut butter and suck this is! :D