I saw this quote the other day and it never resonated so much with me than at this particular point in my life. The quote was this:
"Raising children is like being pecked to death by chickens"
Yes, I'm comparing children to chickens.. sue me! If you think about it, they're really not much different than chickens. You would be amazed at the similarities. For example did you know that a group of chickens is called a flock? I'm sure you did, BUT did you know that a group of children is also known as a flock? Here's another one: chickens can communicate with more than 24 vocalizations. I'm sure you're all stumped on how this compares to children, so let me explain. Have you ever heard 5 children in a room at the same time? There ya go. One more comparison, chickens slurp grass like spaghetti. Kids slurp EVERYTHING!
Now that I have successfully compared children to chickens, lets move on to how they peck us to death. We'll first start with our little guy. This 9 year old is like a junior terrorist trained in torture. I'm serious, every 5 seconds you hear "Mom?" It doesn't stop when you answer because in another 5 seconds you get "Mom?" again. I don't know about you, but in a 24 hour span hearing "mom" a million times will make anyone become this:
The other day he comes home from school and decides to tell us at dinner that he pulled out his tooth in class. Now I can understand pulling your loose teeth out when you're getting money from the Tooth Fairy, but that bitch is officially retired from this house. I asked him why he was pulling out his loose teeth and his response was, "well you started it mommy when you pulled out my first loose tooth".
Ok, in my defense, I did pull out A loose tooth, as in one, because he was freaking out that he could swallow it. However, I did not have any intentions of setting a trend of pulling out loose teeth. As if pulling out his own loose teeth isn't bad enough, Jr. Dexter over here asks a million and one questions that I for one can't answer. For example, the other day I picked him up from school and he was telling me about this kid that was being mean. He then asked me why did the kid have to mean. Without thinking, I responded with "well sometimes kids are little assholes, that's why mom and I are strict with you, so you're not a little asshole". Of course he comes home and thanks my wife for not allowing him to "be a little asshole". What? I told him the truth! My wife on the other hand had to rectify the situation with the correct response after giving me this look:
No sense in sugar coating it, I mean come on.
Lets move on to another one of our children shall we, our 20 year old Mike. About two months ago, Mike bought himself a newer car with all the bells and whistles in it. He worked very hard for that car and we were very proud of him. Less than a few weeks ago I get a text message from him asking me what the process was on trading his car in and getting another one. I stared at my phone confused because I thought he just got a new car. I told him how the process worked and that it would be beneficial for him to keep the car he JUST got two months ago. He told me he wants the car of his dreams. Ok hunny, I want a LandRover, a private house on a secluded island and career where all I do is write, but here I am sitting at desk inside my office. Welcome to adulthood.
That response prompted repeated text message of this vehicle:
What in Jesus' name is this? It looks like a friggen bug! What exactly does one do with this vehicle? We live in the middle of the suburbs. There's no mountains, no large amount of snow, no forests that require that much lighting. Of course I told him that car was ugly and his NEW car that HE JUST GOT was nicer. He responded back with, "I can't go off roading with that one!" I'm sorry what? Now for the remainder of my day I had this image in my head:
It took a while, but we finally convinced him to be grateful for what he has and work hard for what he wants. So he bought a Fender guitar instead. Can't win them all! Guess the vehicle from a "Bug's Life" will have to wait a little longer.
This morning my wife and I were having coffee when Carlton walked in. Apparently the other night Bianca and Carlton went out to dinner at a BBQ place. I know this because Calrton dropped an entire rack of ribs on his pants and Bianca wanted to know if it would stain. That's not the point, but I figured I would give a little background first. Any who, Carlton comes in and thanks Bee for the left overs, which Bianca proudly announced she regretted leaving for Carlton. While I'm enjoying my morning coffee, Carlton comes out with this:
"I was kind of disappointed though, it was like the baby back ribs were dehydrated or something. You know like when a skeleton looses its flesh? It like shrunk or something".
That comment led to this reaction:
And then followed by this look:
First of all I'm still trying to figure out how a slab of baby back ribs can get dehydrated? Did they run laps around the refrigerator? Refrigerator shelf climbing while we were sleeping? Wrestling with the friggen carrots? Dehydrated... really? I'm now going to have to look into whether or not baby back ribs left over get dehydrated. Thanks big head!
So going back to the opening quote, parenting is not a job for the weak. Thank the lord baby jesus my wife does it. I mean I parent, actually I just follow her lead because If I parented my way it would like like this: