No one ever says thank you.

This morning I walked over the the breakfast nook to grab a bowl and stepped in a mess of Cheerios that Sam had spilled all over the floor. I was not happy. I hollared for him to come downstairs and sweep up his mess (something he oddly enjoys) and he got the broom and the dustpan and got to it. Midway through he pauses to note that the mess always seems to be on his side of the table. Ummmm.... Ya think? Then as he finishes sweeping up the mess he made, he starts mumbling about no one ever saying thank you. All I could do to keep from cracking up.