Tuesday
What I Hate (Not Really) About My Kids
Instead of National Poetry Month or National Autism Awareness Month, April in my house may as well been dubbed, "The Rise of The Children." During the siege that has taken place here, I've been able to put my finger on one thing per child that I can't stand:
- The Son: The entire time I've known him he has almost never greeted me with a "hello" when I pick him up. When he was little it was, "What's for dinner?" and "Where's Mom?" Now it's, "I'm hungry..." "Where's the car?" or "He (he points at some random kid that lives nowhere near us) needs a ride." And then he walks past me to my car, which is locked, and just stands there. After his basketball games I watch the other kids walk downtrodden (they're on a serious losing streak) to their fathers for a high five, or a chewing out (by the super sports fanatic dads) or just to be beside the man they call Dad. I have no idea what that is like (shaking my head). And I may have to have another son to find out (shaking my head even more).
- The Daughter: My diabolical princess sabotages every single attempt I make to leave my house (or anywhere) to be on time anywhere. No matter how early I wake her, no matter how dressed she is, no matter if she's sitting by the door with her coat on, no matter what, she either runs around the house, throws a tantrum because she's not wearing pink socks, falls down and says her legs are broken...you name she's concocted it. And this only happens when I'm alone with her (reminiscent of that singing frog from the Warner Bros. cartoons). Because it only happens when we are alone, no one, wife included, believes me when I show up 5 - 30 minutes late --- everywhere, exhausted.
In truth I don't hate a single hair on my kids head, and I clearly know the difference between hating an action and not the person committing it (hate the sin, not the sinner). It's just one of those things that goes on under the roof of E.Payne.
Sound familiar? Or can you put your own twist on the above?
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