Do you ever have one of those parenting moments, where you just figure you’ve said NOT to do something SO many damn times, that it must be ingrained into your child’s stubborn little skull? Or maybe you just think it’s common-fucking-sense and figure- “Nah, they won’t do that shit. It’s TOO stupid?”
These are the moments you will look back on, likely simultaneously wondering if this was a parenting fail or a kid-brained fail, and kicking yourself in the ass for not saying it the eleventy-billionth-and-one time. Just for safe measure. Even if you feel like saying it AGAIN, after saying it so many times, would be pointless- you’ll wish you would have.
The moment where you shake your damn head and mumble under your breath “And this is why I don’t give you nice things!”
That moment, for the eleventy-billionth-and-one time happened to me today. And curse me for not having the foresight to see it coming. With kids, it’s almost like you have to have precognition. Sure, we all have that “third eye” we love to swear is in the back of our heads- which is really nothing more than our children being wholly and completely predictable in their hijinx- but obviously we can’t just rely on that. There has to be more, and that more slips past us int he hustle, bustle and full of whine days we tend to deal with more often than not.
On Wednesday afternoon, when I took the boys to get Burger King to
cure my slight hangover reward them for such good behavior, they gave us more fries than ANY human should ever eat. More than two humans should ever eat. While I could have inhaled that shit in two seconds flat, the grease must have hit my fuzzy brain and allowed for cognitive thinking before that could happen- so I abstained. While many fast food joints fucking FAIL in the sauce department, I guess Holden foaming at the mouth and screaming “I WANT KETCHUP!” at the drive-thru lady put her ass in gear, because there was ketchup for days sitting on the bottom of that bag.
Being that I was restraining from turning myself into a roving landbeast for the rest of the day, not a lot of said ketchup got used for our little lunch.
Now, in my mind, I knew I should really make sure I had cleaned up ALL the ketchup packets from the table. I told myself this, I reminded myself “hey, don’t leave those lying around or you could have a real disgusting mess on your hands”- and I thought- I THOUGHT- I had gotten them all. I apparently left two. One of which I was reminded of when Holden handed it to me later that day and said I needed to put it away, which was a relief- YES HE DID THE RIGHT THING! I raised him well! He didn’t make a mess! I’m int he clear!
We are all acutely aware of the absolute devastation ketchup packets can be made to cause. No one wants that.
The second packet I was not made aware of until lunch today. No, we were not eating anything that would ever even remotely require ketchup. No, I wasn’t paying attention; I was too busy stewing over the fact that the damn DOG eats better than I do, stupid ass cereal diet- when I heard this little POP sound, followed by a shriek and a scream.
|shit. this is weak comparatively.|
There I was, figuring Holden had bit the inside of his cheek again because he never fucking slows down long enough to even TASTE his food, when I look up and see him clutching a ketchup packet in his hands, ever so slowly pulling it away from his mouth- which was covered in thick red goo.
Also covered? His pants, his hands, the table, the chair he was sitting in, and a good 3 feet diameter circle surrounding him. I have to admit, I was slightly impressed at the destruction… until the SMELL hit me. Have you ever SMELLED an exploded packet of ketchup?
Trust me when I say you don’t want to go stomping on a pack to find out.
And to think, HE was the one horrified- even moreso when I sent his red ass to timeout.
Would it be an improper time now to make a joke about earning his red wings early?
Probably… but sometimes this shit just writes itself.
All of this because I perpetrated two big mommy no-no’s.
1. Trusting the kids
2. Leaving shit out that has even a slight potential of making a mess
There may be no use crying over spilled milk, but splattered ketchup is something you are going to want to avoid at all costs.
If you’ve said it before, SAY IT AGAIN. Even if you’re so fucking sick of saying it that you feel like if you say it one more time you just might hurl. Get a paper cup and spew into it- it’s better than scrubbing up ketchup from random household pieces of furniture.
Consider this my gift to you, ’cause cleaning sucks.
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