I have a heat rash.
Outside, a million degrees.
Dog shat on the floor.
This morning, while K is watching a cartoon.
K: Mom, move over. I can’t see the TV.
(I say: Oh, so sorry that my cleaning, cooking, chauffeuring, and other various and sundry Mom duties have taken precious seconds away from your television time. My bad. I’ll know better for next time.
K hears: ………………………………… Television…………)
TWO MINUTES LATER
K: Mom, I need a tissue (the box of tissues sits immediately to her left)
Me: Then get a tissue.
K: I can’t. (She stares at the TV as her
mine cart finger begins its slow ascent towards gold her nose.)
Me: K, I have seen you extend BOTH of your arms in the past. Occasionally at the same time. Therefore, I’m absolutely positive that you can work but one of those pretty arms, right now, in order to get yourself a tissue.
K: I can’t (her finger is now dangerously close to her booger bearer)
Me: They’re right there.
K: I can’t get it. (Finger now beginning proboscis probe)
Me: Fine. Here. (I hand her a tissue just before the nudging of nose nuggets begins in earnest.)
ONE MINUTE LATER
K: Mom, here. (holds out her hand with nasty used tissue in it.)
Me: Throw it away, please. And wash your hands.
K: J, here (extends previously unusable arm, holding nasty used tissue, to her brother.)
Me: No, K. Your tissue has germs all over it. When we use a tissue, we throw it in the garbage ourselves.
K: (puts nasty used tissue in her lap) Ok, I did.
Me: No you didn’t, it’s still sitting in your lap.
K: No, I threw it away. (tissue still sitting in her lap)
Either my child’s lying proficiency is way below benchmark, or she really thinks the cheese has slid off my cracker.
I don’t know which is worse.
It’s called “Diaper Surprise”, because surprise!! It shits charms for your child to WEAR on her ARM.
There’s a commercial for it.
What are we teaching here? Where is the line between acceptable jewelry and doll shit on my childs’ arm?
I’m finished here. There’s nothing else to say.
K: I wake up! I did poopie in my diaper.
Me: (exasperated) we do poopie on the potty, K. We only use diapers for nappy. Can you do poopie on the potty please?
K: Never. (laughs a surprisingly maniacal laugh for a three-year-old)
We go to the changing table, I clean her up.
me: where are your pants?
K: NO PANTS. NO PANTS (she wiggles like a fish out of water) NO PANTS NO PANTS
me: Well, we’re not putting a diaper on. You’re a big girl, you go on the potty.
K: NO PANTS NO PANTS NO PANTS
me: okay. No pants. (pick your battles, right?)
It seems we’ll be wearing a shirt this evening.
I let her off the table. She goes immediately to her dress up box, and soon she is dolled up in pink fairy wings, plastic necklaces, plastic bracelets, sunglasses, heels and a giant pink feathered hat, bare-ass naked from the waist down.
Some weeks ago, we took the children to visit their Grandparents in Virginia. While we were away, a friend of mine took our dogs into her home to love and care for them as her own.
Awwwww….. Isn’t she the best?
Then this happened.
I’m sure it was A LOAD of fun for her. It’s certainly wasn’t A HUGE WASTE of time. I’m certainly glad she gives A CRAP about my adorable puppy.
A Haiku for Brandee:
My enormous dog
took a huge shit in her crate
for Brandee to clean.
She shat waaaaaay in back,
then rolled in it, just for you.
I’m so sorry Brandee. I only laughed a little at your terrible misfortune. It so sucks to be you. Penny is REALLY REALLY big, and shits a TON.
Next time she visits she’ll be all grown up and able to hold it better.
There’ll be a next time… Right?
J got off the bus today with this… ummm… thing held gingerly in an upright position to his chest, its’ light brown
pubic hair strips of colored paper flapping in the breeze around his legs.
His father might have been proud, but the other two moms at the bus stop were laughing hysterically. After I passed the stinkiest of stink eyes to each of my mom friends, I asked J what the fuck he had in his hands.
Okay, I didn’t say it exactly like that, but that was the gist.
He handed it to me. “It’s a monkey.” He was wearing a very “Duh Mom” expression. I turned the
penis monkey over in my hands. Monkey has no face.
He didn’t give monkey a face.
Would a face might have made it better? I don’t know.
“This monkey doesn’t want to look at you- that’s his back, see?”
He points at the tail of the monkey– which has mostly fallen off on the bus; monkey has a stub now. He also lost an arm and an ear during the bus ride.
It was a long hard war for faceless monkey to make it home.
On monkeys other side is a pink oval with Js’ name on it. I ask, with most sincere confusion:
“Why’d you put your name on the back?”
“No, that’s the front.” His impatience with me is growing exponentially by the second. Right, the stump tail is on the back. He doesn’t want to see me. I didn’t think I gained that much weight…
“Well, if that’s the front, then where’s his face? Did you just not feel like giving him one?” I am totally lost.
“I told you, he doesn’t. Want. To. See. You.”
penis monkey is creeping me out.
See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.
The penis monkey goes out with the trash tonight, and in the morning I’m shaving J’s head to make sure the number of the beast is not burned upon his scalp.
Kerry, and her Journey along the Winding Road, has asked ME, Naptimethoughts, to guest post on her blog. At first I thought she might have a fever, or have become incapacitated in some other way, because surely she could not know what she was asking.
To my surprise, she did indeed want me guest post on her blog. I made sure she understood that my post would not be like her usual Freestyle Friday posts, which are all written by talented writers with a solid grasp of the English language, and have fancy attributes like “a point to them”. So, in honor of Kerry’s Freestyle Fridays, I thought I’d go freestyle.
Check out “Free to Pee for You and Me” at Kerry’s Winding Road (before she comes to her senses.)
That’s a package addressed to Mommy.
We join this story just as a putrid smell begins to fill my nostrils…
Me: K, you’re riding kind of low there, did you poop?
Me: Are you sure? I think we should change your diaper.
K: NO! NO POOPIE! (her head spins, flames shoot from her nostrils and her hair turns into snakes)
Me: (backing away slowly) Okay, you let me know.
(5 minutes and one entire can of febreeze later)
K: I poopie. K poopie mmmess. I mmmmmmess.
Me: Should we change your diaper?
Never interrupt a good dump.
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