It’s funny, when I sent Holden off to school for the first time this past September, I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do with myself. For the previous five years, he’d been my wingman. My partner-in-crime. My super mini-BFF. My third arm… if arms had teeth and were constantly trying to gnaw themselves free….
To put it short- we’d gotten into a nice little groove; we had our routine down pat. It’d be pretty sad if after 5 years, we didn’t- Am I right?
Then, suddenly, he was gone for over six hours a day and without my teething limb I felt a bit helpless and lost. Sure, I had Parker at home- but I think he was just as confused as I was. For the first few days, we just sat around looking at each other, probably both thinking the same thing:
“Well, what now?”
Here I am on the first official day of summer break saying the same exact thing for the opposite reason. What the hell do I do with this kid now that you’re home? I created a new groove that I was startin’ to be able to really back it up into and now that’s all mucked up too. Not that I’m not happy to have my arm back, but I got it back when it’s so buttsweat hot outside that anything that could be a fun activity out of the house sounds more like a punishment.
Yes, let’s just go melt off our important external organs; I didn’t want grandchildren or anything.
Without being willing to melt ourselves… we’re bored!
The kid isn’t exactly old enough to send off with the neighborhood a-holes who spend their summers defacing the school playground with colorful, yet crudely drawn penises.
I’d let the wild beasts out in the back yard and watch them from the kitchen window with the AC blowing on my face- but I swear to all that is holy those little fartknockers cannot resist throwing sand in each other’s faces or climbing on top of the picnic table and attempting to break something; either one of their bones or my nerves.
What in the hell are we going to do for the next three months other than get on each other’s nerves because we’re not groovin’ together anymore??
We could slip and slide. Hell, we won’t even need water. We could just use my epic amounts of boob sweat.
We could…. play connect the dots with our mosquito bites! Those fuckers are out in droves already.
Oh, I know! We could have a contest over who has the most hideous tan lines. Parker and Thomas have a SWEET ASS farmer’s tan and Holden has the most epic sock tan known to man. I don’t know if I can even compete- but I’d be thrilled to judge!
I’ve got it! We could peel each other’s inevitable sunburns. There’s nothing quite like the sqqqqqquuuiiiiuick-y sound of skin peeling. Barf.
I suppose there’s always the option to plop our asses on the couch and watch movies- but I’m pretty sure that’s not the “enriching summer” the school system suggested we have.
Or maybe, and this is my best idea yet, we should just wait until our significant other/ roommate/ family member isn’t looking,bust out of the house like it’s fucking Alcatraz, and run away while we still have a little bit of sanity left in tact to a nice quiet spa with a never-ending stockpile of alcohol and hot shirtless cabana boys.
That sounds pretty enriching to me.
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.