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Friday, March 18, 2011

Mama never said there'd be days like this.

I was a good kid. The "Mother's Curse" never even worried me as I got older and began having children.  But, then again, maybe I was wrong thinking I was so right.  Ok, I'll admit it.  I was not the perfect child.  I remember telling on my sister (I was 4 or 5, she was 6 or 7) for sneaking down to the nearby, partially frozen Mississippi River boat launch a block from my house.  (it was basically a very steep, scary hill that dropped off into the mostly frozen water)  Yes, I was there too.  Yes, it WAS my idea.  But she was older, and should have foreseen the punishment awaiting us if I opened my big fat mouth and told on her.  So, ultimately, it really wasn't my fault.  She knew I was a tattle-tale, and should have also known that I would still tell on her, even though it would get me into trouble doing so.  Okay, so maybe I was a sado-masochistic child.  But, on the whole, I wasn't so bad.

So, why do I feel the need to complain about my own children via blog entry?  Oh, just 'cause I hypothetically can.  As a hypothetical reader, you can close out of my blog and not listen to my whining, and I can continue ranting on to nobody in particular about how my children are big bloated hemorrhoids on my derriere. (Which is hypothetically small, by the way... My derriere, I mean)  I really don't remember fighting quite this hard or quite so much with my sister when we were younger.  I would ask my mother, but she tends to exaggerate how awful we were.  I just don't believe her.  Now, I will not deny that my sister and I fought; just that we were sooo much quieter when we did so.  We knew the repercussions if Mom, or God forbid, Dad, heard us.  It scared us into quietly beating each other into a pulp until one side gave in. (Usually her. Didn't I already tell you I was a tattle-tale?)

My children prefer a more boisterous form of fighting.  It probably includes a similar amount of violence as the likes of my sister's and my fights, but Good Lord; it sounds like someone has lost a limb most times.  But, I have found the most perfect solution to this very problem.  My super-smart-mommy remedy for this?  I'm glad you asked.  The iPod.  It's an amazing little thing, especially when you turn up the volume loud enough to drown out the Armageddon going on in the next room. For a mere two hundred-ish dollars, you too can enjoy your life, fight free.

So, just to summarize... Oh, crap... they're starting up again.  Time to pop in the ear-buds and crank up the tunes.

1 comment:

  1. You were not awful. In fact, I would return to those days in a heartbeat. But then, my memory fails me every time. As I recall, it wasn't that bad. Hang on, dear. When it's over, you won't remember either.