Sometimes I think children really ARE out to get us. Put on this planet as a test of our sanity and mental capibilities to withstand the most strenuous situations and loudest decible sounds. Kind of like water-boarding… with a large side of whine.
Why else, logically, would they do some of the shit they do on a regular basis? Yeah yeah, we can use the excuse “oh they’re just kids, they’re still finding their way in this crazy messed up world”
You keep tellin’ yourself that, i’m going with CONSPIRACY all the way baby!
Coloring on walls? Simple: making sure we aren’t arsonists. Or trying to frame us FOR arson because crayon, no matter what anyone says- does NOT always come off. Eff you Magic Eraser, you can suck my butt- you got nothin’ on some dry erase markers; and no, I do not need advice in how to remove it, it doesn’t work! WAIT, that’s what it is. They want people to drive me insane with tips and advice that I don’t need. We know from last night’s blog how sporky that makes me.
Picky eaters? Duh, trying to force you to be a 5-star chef- thereby ensuring all of your food is so delicious that they ABSOLUTELY won’t fucking touch it. Ever. This just gives them even more reason to whine.
And while we’re on the subject- WHINING! I mean, tell me who in the hell that benefits other than them? Certainly not us. Just one last push over the proverbial edge.
Children are all on the same conscious network of “let’s drive Mommy insane so she lets us watch Spongeturd in peace while she has a nervous breakdown in the corner!”
Let me make my case, just to confirm to you that I haven’t gotten some brain eating worm boring its way into my skull right this very second:
Every single pair of Holden’s shorts are missing.
And I don’t just mean missing, I mean MISSING. As in NOWHERE. As in i’ve looked EVERYWHERE. Under beds, in closets, in everyone’s drawers (because sometimes Daddy is an idiot and mixes up clothing, even though it’s really not hard to tell them apart). I’ve dug through the piles of clean laundry and dirty laundry (which made me want to hork), i’ve looked under the couches which required me to stick my ass so high in the air that someone could have goosed the poo out of my hiney-hole had they wanted to- and trust me, it was not simple considering I had three injections in my back today and feel stiffer than an old man’s peen after one too many blue pills. I even started looking in cabinets, I mean, fuck- where the hell else could they BE at this point?
Not in the dog kennel, not in the washing machine or the dryer (because i’ve wanted to kick my own stupid ass after finding things in there once i’ve already been manically searching for an hour), not behind the couch cushions, or stuffed into pillow cases. Not even in that hole in the wall that Holden once claimed he was hiding poop nuggets in, but wasn’t. WHY would he say that? Fuck if I know! Add it to the list of conspiracies he’s cooked up to drive me insane.
They are gone with the wind. Scarlett would not be pleased (but we all know Rhett would not give a damn).
The only conclusion that I can come to is that Holden, like the evil conspiring genius that he is, has hidden them somewhere no adult mind can find. Why? Because he doesn’t want to wear pants.
I don’t really BLAME him, pants suck- and I understand his displeasure with being confined, and I don’t even have testicles that have the ability to stick to the insides of thighs to complain about. Not like a vagina is fun in the sun or anything, but it beats two caged berries. He just seemed so damn pleased with himself when I told him that he had no shorts and therefore could not wear any today (since it’s a bajillionty degrees and pants would kill him)- that I have to assume this was done on purpose.
Kids “lose” shit all the time because they don’t want to DO certain things, when really they’ve just hidden them. Fucking SNEAKY, sneaky I tell you!
But what his child mind really doesn’t fully comprehend is that without these evil shorts he so loathes – he can’t go anywhere. This includes his beloved backyard, because he has grown to the age where running around in his drawers isn’t cute anymore- it’s just fucking weird, and people are uncomfortable looking at it.
Don’t get me wrong, I still think his chunky thighs and giant butt (no, seriously, giant. Blame his father) are cute, but that’s because I birthed him, and love is blind. I don’t particularly love his boogers but I definitely don’t find them as disgusting as snot from a stranger- THAT is love y’all.
Talk about a total manipulation backfire! I mean, usually the kid can outsmart me and make me feel like a complete idiot- YEAH, a 4 year old. Not today, suckaaaaa, not today!
Although… I still don’t know where all of those fucking shorts went.
Damnit. We may have to call a truce on this one.
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