One of the reasons I can never leave Scott is that he knows all of my stories. And our shorthand language is just too far gone. No one else would ever know what the hell we were saying. “Oh my God this is just like that time in Boston. You need to flip a bitch.” See? See what I mean? I mean sure I love him and I also happen to really like him, which is cool because he lives in my house, but the reason I can never leave him is because I would be too tired to explain my shorthand to new people.
This week though… this week I had mad crazy thoughts of running away from home. Summer and I are having a love/hate relationship at the moment. I love the lazy days and the carefree existence as much as the next guy but my kids? My kids are drunk with summer power. They are under the impression that they should wake up every morning to banana splits. But not really banana splits because eww who wants bananas messing up their ice cream? But at least ice cream for breakfast. And pinatas hanging from the ceiling. And ponies in the yard. And fairies under their pillows. And Target runs every day before lunch to buy new crap. What the eff word? We are not carnival people here! The world is not here to entertain you and to buy you shit. But if I stop, if the tap dancing slows down or misses a beat splat! Whaaa! She hit me! I hate her! She’s stupid!
Bitches man.
So it would appear that my darling lovely daughters are having a love/hate relationship at the moment too. Maybe just the hate part. The sibling hatred wave is at full crest right now. The hate is strong with these two. In truth, they have always been a challenge. Scott’s dad babysat them once when they were little. Once. Scott called after an hour, “How’s it going dad?” Audible groan, “I don’t know how you haven’t bought a gun and shot yourself.” Ah the wisdom of our elders.
But in the dead of summer when there’s no camp or playdates and mommy has a project to work on and you just have to be here in the house and shut up about it and TRY to help me get ready for the family beach trip… Well, we’re breaking shit around here that’s all I can say.
So I’ve been spending this week glued to my computer, not going to the grocery store or cooking dinner or doing laundry or walking the dog or breaking up the bare fisted cage fights quickly enough. And when Scott walked into this messy loud hungry house of ungrateful mean-spirited summer-drunk bully spawn he took a look around and said, “I don’t know how you haven’t bought a gun and shot yourself,” and promptly ordered a pizza for dinner. And that’s why I’m keeping him.
What is it with kids and Target?
My conversation with my 7 year old…
“Mom, Do we need toilet paper?”
“No, we have plenty of toilet paper.”
“I’m sure we need toilet paper.”
“No, I’m on to you buddy, you just want to go to Target.”
“No, I don’t…really!”
“I wasn’t born yesterday you know.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind, go tell DAD we need toilet paper.”
Boy do I get this.
My husband and I still quote a saying from a grocery store bag. That we saw in a store 1,000 miles away. Fifteen years ago.
I found you through Mrs. Picket Fence, and I enjoy your writing immensely.
Hi-larious. And I too, know of which you speak. It is the best when you can just say one random thing and have that person know exactly what you mean.
When my surly teenagers were that age, I was blessed with the family next door, whom I knew and trusted, and two big yards. Their two and my two played endlessly in the summer. Their favorite game was something called, “Let’s say…” As in , “Let’s say? You’re the Pink Power Ranger? And the bad guy? Is chasing me? etc.” They came up with truly incredible scenarios, and I don’t know if they ever acted them out, just coming up with them was apparently entertainment enough.
I hear ya sister!!! On the last day of our family vacation, my daughter and I were not seeing eye to eye and I was about to lose it. My husband notices the cues (steam coming out of my ears) and finally said, “Step away from your mother. At this point, all communication will go through me!”
I think I laughed out loud at every sentence today. Your daughters want a straight up Willy Wonka Factory! Ha!
And I LOVE the shorthand stuff. Me and Jake have shortened it to acronyms even.
“I don’t know how you haven’t bought a gun and shot yourself,” and promptly ordered a pizza for dinner. *ROFLOL* Men … they sometimes don’t have a clue, but then sometimes they know just what to do. Yeah, you should keep him around for awhile. Love the shorthand … where are my Gregg books so I can translate?
xxoo
I think the only people who enjoy summer vacation are childless teachers. For the rest of us, it’s our regular jobs, plus the added headache of managing a bunch of unmotivated chip-eating, towel-soaking midgets who think they can stay up late and sleep until noon.
Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?
Oh welcome to my world….for the last 6 years I have had to deal with this. Mine are 6 years apart and it’s one girl and one boy with the girl being the oldest.
I have decided to let them hash it out every once in awhile because well they just need to learn how to deal with each other. It worked out great for my brother and I, we’re the best of friends NOW!!!
Hope it all gets better for you.
Dear Carolyn… Online,
I would’ve loved to have posted on your blog because you’re funny as hell and you’re a smoking hot mom blogger (O relax Scott – she said she’d never leave you, not even for a charismatic dude named Black Hockey Jesus) BUT… I NEED MORE THAN 20 MINUTES, CAROLYN… ONLINE!
I’m jammed up. I’m in a constant state of anxiety. I fear commitment. Etc. ~BHJ
lisabella- you see right through that TP scam.
Patty – Thanks!
DCD – hi man.
Middle Aged Woman – can we come visit the family next door?
Jen W – totallt stealing that line.
X – Willy Wonka. Yes.
Sea Mystery – I’ll translate for you.
Trooper Thorn – are you in fact a trooper? Can’t you do some incarceration or something?
Becky – thanks, me too.
Black Hockey Jesus – dude, this is how I roll. I’m all spotaneous and shit.
I like all your cussing. You’ve got a mouth dirtier than Denise Richards’
–How to Party with an Infant
brazilliance. nuff said.
A love-hate, devil spawn fight betwixst my two nearly caused me to run away from my vacation yesterday. I can’t help but think…sometimes…I’ve raised awful people. Sigh.