So, I thought earlier today that I may have been bitten (once again) by the writing bug..Yes, it is a pesky little infestation that never seems to go away. When this thought first occurred to me, I was in a much better mood. I can only offer my apologies that now, I am not.
I am beyond furious. BUT, writing a diatribe of my feelings and metaphorically bleeding all over my keyboard will neither do me, or you, my masochistic readers, any good. Nope, we're just gonna poke fun at this like everything else, because by tomorrow, I will have compartmentalized it and moved on, and no one needs nasty written proof of their descent into a world of crazy.
So, being a parent truly sucks major balls sometimes. First, you go through the worrying about diaper and formula brands, and "Oh my gods, will they stop breathing in their sleep??" and then comes the toddler years , when ALL you want is a moment of peace and to be able to take a crap without interruption, which is followed by the "cute years" when they start school and bring home pilgrims made out of paper towel rolls at Thanksgiving and everything they say is so insightful and "aren't they just adorable now that they can clean their own butts and work the microwave?"
Newsflash, kiddies... those years are fleeting. THEN they become teenagers. Button pushing, boyfriend having, back-talking, eye-rolling, teeth-sucking , I know the secrets to the ENTIRE GODDAMN UNIVERSE and I'm not telling , TEENAGERS.
Teenage girls have the uncanny ability to be the most condescending ( which is a talent in itself considering they haven't achieved a damn thing but growing boobs) manipulative, mean and hateful people on the face of the earth. They can also, with believable crocodile tears and all, make you think that it is YOUR fault that you are so upset when ALL they did is take possibly one of the most sensitive and upsetting facets of your life and mention the idea that it could all come to bite you in the ass and turn your life to ruin while you're tending to a fucking pot roast.
Yes, folks.. That's Wednesday evening at my house.
I don't get much time at home these days, and I was truly thrilled at the prospect that I managed , not only to make a dinner for my family that didn't come from a cardboard box, but also to clean the "third layer of hell" , otherwise known as the master bathroom. Hell, I even shaved my legs today and ENJOYED IT.
Which, I suppose , is the reason that I let a snivelling, snot nosed kid get to me with her passive-agressive jabs at my life choices. The world may be her goddamn oyster but I have worked my fingers to the bone just insure that she had the fork to pry it open with.
Forgive me if I sound bitter but insolence in my own house, I will not take.
So, yes, she got a nice dose of Momma's good, old fashioned ass-chewing, along with everything I had (apparently) been harboring in a dusty box inside my brain for quite some time. Now she's fasting like Gandhi, just to make sure that everyone knows that she is truly the martyr in this situation.
Fine with me , I'll eat ALL the pot roast, because you know what? I've earned the privelege of carrying around these hips when I sacrificed them to the birthing gods.
Oh, Days of Enfamil, where have you gone???
