I have a confession to make. I could probably confess a lot of things if I had a kid-free week and enough energy to type nonstop the entire time- but I don’t. I’m far too lazy for all that nonsense.
The confession I have is likely one that many moms have, which I have annoyingly dubbed a “momfession.” It’s nothing too shameful, and won’t end with my husband divorcing me and children filing for emancipation at the tender ages of 3 and 5- but it’s enough to sheepishly hang your head, chuckle at yourself, raise your hand slowly up into the air and say “guilty.” It is something that you do that is slightly embarrassing, but you feel like you HAVE to- whether to save your sanity, your energy, your FOOD or beverage, or to keep your kids from doing something annoying… or even simply something you do because you just don’t want to do something else.
Don’t be ashamed fellow moms and dads (y’all aren’t getting off so easily!)- there’s no need to be! I actually find it quite therapeutic to get these momfessions off of my chest, because chances are, a gajillion of you have done the same exact damn thing, and if you haven’t- you’ve THOUGHT about doing it! Don’t lie! You can to me, but don’t lie to yourself. Accept your sneaky parenting tactics. Be proud! It gets harder and harder to outsmart and trick the little ankle-biters once they get above hip level!
Today’s momfession has to do with toys. Sigh….. toys. I never know how much they are going to make me want to go rabid with a sledgehammer until they have been home and whatever obnoxious noise they make (because they ALL make obnoxious noises) has been going off for an hour straight and my knuckles start to go white. Never have I felt more like Bruce Banner about to transform into the Hulk and smash the shit out of some shit.
I don’t just remove the batteries and pretend the toys have mysteriously become “broken” without suffering any kind of fall or plunging into any body of water. Sometimes the kids are too smart for that shit, or suddenly those damn batteries that have died and you never replaced just to prove the toy was ACTUALLY broken and not just out of juice will have a random resurgence and suddenly you’re a big fat fucking liar and shame on you!
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
If anyone asks, the blame falls on Elmo.
I don’t know what possessed me to buy this thing; call it a moment of parental weakness brought on by a baby growing a year older that caused me to say yes to just about anything he asked for- but a few years ago- Parker picked out an Elmo (in past blogs, this thing has been referred to as “Melmo.”) Not just any Elmo, mind you, but this little one with this flapping jaw that when you shook it, it sounded like it was laughing. Well… it was supposed to sound like laughing, but to me it sounded more like the fucking devil himself. The thing is pure evil.
Just taking out the batteries and claiming toy defect simply wasn’t enough to stop it from being THE MOST ANNOYING THING ON THE ENTIRE DAMN PLANET!!!! I had to go further. I had to do worse.
I am slightly embarrassed to admit that I can do a SPOT-ON impression of Elmo. I’m not sure whether this is a gift or a curse but I’m leaning toward the latter.
My children usually love when I break out the Elmo voice, but it was time for my impressionist skills to be used for a more important cause- my brain. My poor brain. It just can’t take any more of that little shitbrick’s “HAHAHAHAHAHA ELMO…SO….DIZZY! HAHA HAHA HAB HAHAB UDiesurogheiorhgioweh”
Ahem… I’m sorry. I got a little carried away there… but I think I got my point across.
With Evil Elmo in front of my face, I began speaking in the voice of Elmo… slow and eerily, I said “Elmo loves you. Elmo wants to play with you forever. Elmo wants to suck your brain through your nose while you eat and then put poop in your mouth. Elmo looooooves you. Hahahahahahahaha play with me! PLAY WITH ME FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER!!!”
Thank you to “The Shining”- my children have never played with Evil Elmo again.
And I only had to slightly traumatize my children to do so! So double-win!
I might not be proud of this, but I ain’t ashamed either. A PARENT’S GOTTA DO WHAT A PARENT’S GOTTA DO!!!
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