You’ve Got Another Thing Coming

Il Duce at the farm. See the weapon?

Yesterday I needed a momentary break from my service to the emperor. Doing his bidding all day every day can really wear on a person so after re-fixing his chocolate milk three times to get it just right and head off that epic screaming fit that we all could have suffered through, I sat down to catch up on some blog reading. I’ve got a list of fantastic mommy bloggers who I follow regularly because, well, I guess we have at least our reproductive abilities in common. God, it’s depressing though. After scrolling through all these upbeat, inventive tales of their funny and sweet children with the love they have for them coming across in every word they type I just got cranky. Especially one gal who posted an angelic pic of her smiling tot with goodness that just emanated from every pore in the child’s body.

Then I look at Il Duce. Every photo I have of him he’s either sneering, giving me the finger or brandishing a weapon. This filthy little animal has ruined nearly every family photo I’ve tried to take in the last two years. Not even his make-believe games come close to normal. Last night I heard him using his Diego plastic marsupials in a jungle adventure, except he kept calling them “sex monkeys” and putting them in jail for kissing. What the fuck does that mean? Don’t even start pointing the finger at me, because the phrase “sex monkeys” has never passed my lips. Even my ten-year old was scandalized.
We got his weirdly inconclusive test results back from the world-renowned three thousand dollars a pop Neuro/Psycho/Edu testing dude and he’s all like “what a funny kid! He’s super smart but not so good at being told what to do huh?” Yes, super expensive rip off artist, I could have pooled the collective resources of every  idiot who’s ever come in contact with him and come up with a more comprehensive plan of action than scratching my head and suggesting meds if he doesn’t calm down in a few years. Better yet, I’m gonna steal those meds and help myself to a big heap of mother’s little helper during the afternoons when it’s too crazy to deal with here. Okay?
Uggg. So anyway, I’m off to chauffeur Palpatine to his next engagement that takes place right after his school day ends. Let’s hope he’s not suffering from his usual fit of distemper and all goes smoothly. But realistically, probably not.

He got along REALLY well with the goats. Must be the horns.



Filed under 1, bad parenting, boys with serious attitude, busy days, difficult child, difficult kids, discipline, education, foul language in preschool, kids, kids and parenting, kids that like cursewords, kids with potty mouth, kindergarten options, mothers, my kid the scapegoat, odd behavior, parenting, things to do today, things we shouldn't be thrilled by

6 responses to “You’ve Got Another Thing Coming

  1. Sex Monkeys. AWESOME potential band name. “Put in Jail for Kissing” sounds like one hell of a single to me!

  2. You’re not alone. Our three-year-old, Linny, has some of the worst tantrums I’ve ever experienced. She screamed herself hoarse last week after a two hour tirade that goes pretty much like this: “PICK ME UP!!!” pick her up “PUT ME DOWN!!!” put her down “PICK ME UP!!!” walk away “DON’T LEAVE!!!” come back “GO AWAY!!!” go away “DON’T LEAVE!!!” leave anyway “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” no what “DON’T TALK TO ME!!!” and so on and so forth.

    I once threw away about five of her toys and she still kept screaming. I once put her in a cold shower to try and startle her out of screaming. After I took her out and dried her off (amidst the screaming) she screamed “I WANT A COLD SHOWER!!!”

    In short, “There was a little girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good she was good she was very, very good and when she was bad she was horrid.”


    Children are stupid.


  3. dufmanno

    Oh my god. I think our kids were separated at birth. That sounds like a day at our house. I feel your pain, and children are indeed stupid.

  4. The Last Post

    I don’t know how you manage twenty four hours a day. I sometimes baby sit my niece at the weekends and after five hours all I want to do is curl up in a corner and sob silently.

    Although she has yet to come out with the phrases you mention. But I suppose it is only time.

    I bought her a CD of nursery rhymes to keep her quiet and stupidly showed her how to put in in the stereo. You won’t believe what she tries to shove it that little slot now.

    Best of luck 🙂

  5. dufmanno

    Shoving things in the wrong slot has evolved into an art form over here. I just get freaked out when they start insterting things into bodily orafaces. “Look what’s in my ear!” “Do you think that will fit up my butt?” Ugggg.

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