Things I Never Thought I'd Have to Say
It turns out there's not a lot of logic involved in parenting. There's bravado, confusion, joy, and exhaustion, but very little logic.
Sometimes I hear the words coming out of my mouth and think, "WTF did I just say?" I'm not sure what else I expected. After all, children are snack terrorists who have no filter and feel everything at 11. If it pops into their little brains, they do it. Or somebody does it. Because both of my children disavow all knowledge of the majority of the things that happen around here.
So I began compiling a running list of Things I Never Thought I'd Have to Say. Things that make me shake my head and deepen that wrinkle between my eyebrows. Things that make me wonder if there's something wrong with me, with them, or both.
In the early years, it was mostly about things that shouldn't be in the mouth.
Then it became more about hygiene and propriety.
Why is your eyebrow stiff?
No, nobody wants to see mama's belly button while she's eating.
We don't run over the dog with the lawnmower.
Did someone spill milk in my shoe?
It's not okay to run around the house with your pants half-down.
Green beans are not a styling product.
Is that a cow in your pants?
Where did the head of this dog go?
Don't roar with your mouth full.
Who lets a chicken and a cat take a bath together anyways?
And then, everything got weird.
Why are there boogers on my window?
The TV is not ticklish.
Remote controls can't breathe under water.
Don't put yogurt on the police car.
Your cheese doesn't need a band-aid.
The tow truck is not in charge. I'm in charge.
We can't take that outside. That's an indoor snake.
Nobody needs a cheese tunnel.
Stop licking my back.
Don't use your nose to blow bubbles through a straw!
You have cheese in your eyelashes.
Your sister is *not* a speed bump.
We can't chop a quesadilla with a wrench.
We don't cook our friends.
Cookies don't wear diapers.
You have to put underpants on to go see Santa.
If you get ketchup in your eye, I'm not taking you to the doctor.
Now we're at the enviable stage of trying to behave like regular people rather than psychopaths.
I don't think we should give our neighbors underpants as gifts.
No, you can't slide down the stairs in a cardboard box. Absolutely not.
You are not a zombie. There are no zombies at the farm.
Thank you for taking your glasses off before head-butting the couch.
Get your head out from under the dog!
We can put real band-aids on real blood, and imaginary band-aids on imaginary blood, but we can't put real band-aids on imaginary blood. No.
You can sword fight when we get to the car.
Your friends won't like you very much if you toot on them.
You don't high-five him in the face.
Nobody is going to sharpen anybody's fingers!
And whatever the hell this was:
I can't get a rocket-punch right now. I'm busy.
It's not kids that say the darnedest things. It's me, trying to raise them.
Maybe there will come a time when I get to share with my children profound, meaningful life lessons or give invaluable advice because I've been where they are. Maybe someday they will pause and say, "You know, mom, you really have a way with words."
Today ain't that day. And tomorrow isn't looking too good either.
Sometimes I hear the words coming out of my mouth and think, "WTF did I just say?" I'm not sure what else I expected. After all, children are snack terrorists who have no filter and feel everything at 11. If it pops into their little brains, they do it. Or somebody does it. Because both of my children disavow all knowledge of the majority of the things that happen around here.
So I began compiling a running list of Things I Never Thought I'd Have to Say. Things that make me shake my head and deepen that wrinkle between my eyebrows. Things that make me wonder if there's something wrong with me, with them, or both.
In the early years, it was mostly about things that shouldn't be in the mouth.
Please don't lick the dog.
Please don't lick the trashcan.
Stop letting the dog lick your tongue.
We don't eat scabs.
Why are you eating yogurt off the dog's leash?
We don't lick doorknobs.
Don't eat bathtub cake.
Then it became more about hygiene and propriety.
Why is your eyebrow stiff?
No, nobody wants to see mama's belly button while she's eating.
We don't run over the dog with the lawnmower.
Did someone spill milk in my shoe?
It's not okay to run around the house with your pants half-down.
Green beans are not a styling product.
Is that a cow in your pants?
Where did the head of this dog go?
Don't roar with your mouth full.
Who lets a chicken and a cat take a bath together anyways?
And then, everything got weird.
Why are there boogers on my window?
The TV is not ticklish.
Remote controls can't breathe under water.
Don't put yogurt on the police car.
Your cheese doesn't need a band-aid.
The tow truck is not in charge. I'm in charge.
We can't take that outside. That's an indoor snake.
Nobody needs a cheese tunnel.
Stop licking my back.
Don't use your nose to blow bubbles through a straw!
You have cheese in your eyelashes.
Your sister is *not* a speed bump.
We can't chop a quesadilla with a wrench.
We don't cook our friends.
Cookies don't wear diapers.
You have to put underpants on to go see Santa.
If you get ketchup in your eye, I'm not taking you to the doctor.
Now we're at the enviable stage of trying to behave like regular people rather than psychopaths.
I don't think we should give our neighbors underpants as gifts.
No, you can't slide down the stairs in a cardboard box. Absolutely not.
You are not a zombie. There are no zombies at the farm.
Thank you for taking your glasses off before head-butting the couch.
Get your head out from under the dog!
We can put real band-aids on real blood, and imaginary band-aids on imaginary blood, but we can't put real band-aids on imaginary blood. No.
You can sword fight when we get to the car.
Your friends won't like you very much if you toot on them.
You don't high-five him in the face.
Nobody is going to sharpen anybody's fingers!
And whatever the hell this was:
I can't get a rocket-punch right now. I'm busy.
It's not kids that say the darnedest things. It's me, trying to raise them.
Maybe there will come a time when I get to share with my children profound, meaningful life lessons or give invaluable advice because I've been where they are. Maybe someday they will pause and say, "You know, mom, you really have a way with words."
Today ain't that day. And tomorrow isn't looking too good either.
Comments
Post a Comment