Friday, May 09, 2014

I've got my work cut out for me ...

I doubt myself constantly, and I don't think I hide that. Or maybe I do. I give the appearance of someone very together, but it's in the quiet moments that, as long as I know my loved ones are ok, it's safe for me to step away and quietly fall to pieces.

Tonight was one of those night where I was just annoyed. The middle child was mad I suggested he brush his teeth (gasp! No!)  after shoving 10 Mike-n-Ike's into his mouth at once. As he squished the sugary matter up through the front of his teeth, all I could see was tiny, tasty little pieces wedging their way into the crevices of his teeth.

He stomps to the bathroom.

Moments later he returns. Jaw clenched, he says, "Go in the bathroom, I have a present for you."

I look at Dustin. I look at Olive. I'm hoping there's not a pile of poop on the floor.

I start to follow him and Olive joins me.

"Um Olive? Let me go first," I say, on the off chance that, yes, it is poop.

Mr. Middle Child had squeezed the better part of his toothpaste into the sink. A pile of shiny, thick, sticky, blue TMNT substance.

I look at him, and I can't tell if he's trying to make me laugh or make me pissed off. I'm pretty sure it was the latter, and I responded accordingly.

I'm not even sure why it made me so sad. Probably just bc I thought the age that someone can deliberately plan a "gift" with the intention of being an ass isn't until at least 9. 

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