Yesterday afternoon my children were abducted by aliens and replaced with Satan and Lucifer. I had to take Satan to physical therapy and since his regular therapist wasn’t there, I knew we were doomed from the start. See, pretty much since the day son #1 was born, he’s had this uncanny ability to size people up in a heartbeat and determine if he’s going to be able to take advantage of them. And for people he knows he can’t take advantage of, if you let your attention wane for even a second, he’ll be taking full advantage. When the new therapist was introduced to him, she was sweet and pretty and soft spoken and my first thought was “Oh boy, he’s going to have her for lunch.” And within 30 seconds, he was having a nice phsyical therapist lunch and spitting out the bones. He immediately started telling her what he does (making it up) and how he doesn’t do any of the things he doesn’t like to do. As his Lunch just sat there nodding and smiling, I piped in “Uh, son, she has your chart right there in front of her. Your other physical therpist left a list of all the things you do AND THE ORDER IN WHICH YOU DO THEM.” Lunch nods and smiles. ” Oh.” he said in a VERY disappointed tone. So he tried to skip repetitions with counting that went something like “1,2, 10 DONE!” And Lunch only put up a weak objection. I sighed. “Son, if you don’t stop skipping over these, *I’M* going to make you do them all over.” I went back to reading my magazine and looked up to notice that they had left Lucifer and Satan alone at the weighted ball rack and my children were throwing weighted balls at each other. I almost had a stroke. It was really hard not to start yelling a whole lot of profanities. Seriously, who is raising these monsters? I marched over to the physical therapist’s aide and said “He CAN NOT be left alone, for even a second. He’s a danger to himself and others.” She smiled a tight smile at the mother of Satan and Lucifer somehow implying that it was MY fault. I’ve never seen these kids before in my life.
In case you are wondering, I say that in public a lot when I’m with Steve and they start acting like monsters. I pretend to be an innocent bystander. When someone stops to observe the ensuing horror, I usually casually say “Wow those kids are really ill behaved.” Usually the bystander looks at me with a mixture of skepticism and surprise. Sometimes the kids yell “MOM!” in my direction and I pretend to look over my shoulder to see who they’re talking to. By this time the stranger is now staring at me with unbridled horror at which time I always say “I’ve never seen those kids before in my life. Certainly *MY* children would never act like that.” That’s when the strangers usually laugh at me and walk away.
By the time physical therapy was over, I was in a FOUL mood. I wondered where I had left the cages for these two animals. Steve was supposed to meet us for dinner but was stuck in a meeting. To kill some time, I went into Lowe’s to look for a couple of things I needed for the garden. And that it where Satan and Lucifer started running through the greenhouse screaming at each other and dismantling the shelves. Son #2 started playing in a water fountain. I didn’t know whether to scream or just start crying. My phone rings and I answered with “I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR AN HOUR WHILE THESE TWO-” and then I was drowned out by the screaming and fighting of my two tasmanian devils. “THAT’S IT!” I yelled. “We are going HOME! No restaurant for anyone!” Steve knew better than to say a word.
Earlier in the day I had bought some Boboli mini pizzas for the kids to make a pizza for lunch over the weekend. I was so angry on the way home I forbid them from even talking so I could hear myself think. I wasn’t cooking for anyone. I announced when we got home that I was NOT cooking and everyone was making their own dinner as punishment. This was scary for son #2 until he realized he got to make his own pizza. As I was putting the pizzas in the oven, son #1 says “Uh Mom, that wasn’t much of a punishment.” Son #2 pipes up with “Yeah, that was FUN! Can we do this EVERY Friday?!” Steve comes over and says in a low voice ”Uh what kind of punishment was that supposed to be anyway?” I just scowled at everyone and stomped out the room to hide my smile.
April 21, 2007 at 3:05 pm
It could be worse - you could have girls. Do you have any idea how girls take advantage of their fathers and drive their mothers crazy!
April 21, 2007 at 4:17 pm
Alfred- That is why God did not give me girls. The whining, the grudges, the hours of shopping, NO WAY.
April 21, 2007 at 8:34 pm
Alfred’s thought was my first thought also as I started reading! Granted, I only have 1 boy (who is still USUALLY cute at 18 months), but I teach 8th graders all day long…….so I KNOW what girls are like! Hehehehee!
Enjoy your weekend!
April 21, 2007 at 10:20 pm
*snort!* you put the cleavage picture up… Clean campaign, my ASS!!! LOL
April 22, 2007 at 8:50 am
Tendrils- lol! You haven’t met my oldest though. He could take your whole class of eighth graders and raise you three….lol!
Beth- WHAT? ME?
April 22, 2007 at 11:21 am
Hey Helen. Things do backfire sometimes ,but that is part of life. Ahh the joys of parenting.
Pizza sounds good!
Buenas Dias
April 22, 2007 at 3:39 pm
You are an inspiration. Your site must be very popular with parents of young children. To be able to read posts like this and realize, “I’m NOT the worst parent on the planet after all, she is” is a wonderful service you are providing here Helen. Hell, I don’t even have kids at home anymore and even *I* feel better about myself after reading your site.
April 23, 2007 at 7:50 am
Thank you for a wonderful idea - I may one day soon try pretending I’ve never laid eyes on my terrors.
April 23, 2007 at 8:46 am
Cyber and Mac- Uh, I think you guys might have missed the point. I knew that the kids would LOVE making their own pizzas. However, I did not want to reward their bad behavior. It’s a fine line you must walk.
Iced- Yes. Usually strangers figure it out, but it certainly releases the tension and deflects the glares you get when your kids are acting out.
April 23, 2007 at 9:52 am
At least I wasn’t the the only one.
And well Duh when I think of how much pleasure I get from kneeding the and stretching the pizza dough. (I made it last night)
April 23, 2007 at 11:21 am
Cyber- Mac should know me better than that!