I find the kids really annoying today. It’s true. Kids ARE annoying.
Usually we all manage to put up with each other, as I’m sure I might possibly annoy them too.
It has been a day of them egging each other on, teasing and poking each other, being loud and obnoxious in public….. Today they are the kids that people who don’t have kids see, and then think to themselves “I’m so glad I decided not to have kids”.
I think the last straw was in the hardware store. I just needed to get ONE THING. Well, two things. A battery for the fire alarm that won’t stop chirping (also annoying) and some hardware to fix my towel rack.
As I walk with them, I stay between them so they can’t poke and tickle each other and try to keep their volume to a minimum. Jenna refuses to walk in a straight line, and at one point just collapses on the floor in a giggling heap. Pulling her up is impossible, she keeps her knees bent and won’t bear her own weight.
They find this hilarious. Me, not so much.
My whispered threats of beatings once we are out of the public eye are not taken seriously, they know I’m bluffing.
They’ve reached that point of silliness that just doesn’t stop. We’ve all been there. The point where the laughter just doesn’t end, no matter what danger it may put them in. They needed something to snap them out of it, a shock to the system.
Getting them buckled into their seats, I see the answer.
I had just bought them each a small box of valentine candy at the chocolate store. I glared at them, grabbed those boxes, and took them to the front seat with me.
I ignore their renewed attempts to annoy me. YES, they were now doing it on purpose! I open a box, and start eating it piece by piece, keeping my eyes ahead of me. Suddenly they aren’t laughing so hard.
“You can’t eat our candy!”
“Oh YES I can. I bought it. It’s MY candy.”
Seething from the back. From Jenna especially, you don’t mess with her chocolate.
To further illustrate how I am the boss of them, I pull into the Starbucks line. Order myself a tea and NO CAKE POPS.
I drive away and smile to myself as they sit, stunned, in the back.
Jenna is absolutely outraged.
She starts on a rant about how I don’t even love them because I took their candy and I’m not a good mom. Of course I have to return with how good kids listen to their parents and they weren’t being good for me.
“So, you don’t love us!” She’s not asking. She’s accusing.
“You don’t love us and maybe you don’t want to be our mom!”
I’m amused now, chocolate and tea has restored my humor. So I respond:
“I never said I don’t love you, are you saying you want a different mom?”
She doesn’t come out and say it, but she’s heading in that direction. I get a speech filled with 4 year old logic about how it’s physically impossible for a parent to actually love a child if they take candy from them. And maybe it’s time for us to part ways. Not that she doesn’t love me, but maybe we need a break. And besides, if I send her to a different house, they’ll probably have a dog.
I promised her there would not be a dog. She’s stuck with me, and her chocolate was delicious.