I wrote once that I wanted to keep my kids from being a-holes so that when they grew up they could be respectful, contributing citizens of wherever they live.
But right now? Right now they’re a-holes. Especially, to each other. I thought it was just a phase. I thought it would pass. It’s been 10 and 6 years. It hasn’t passed.
1. He used to LOVE bananas.
Now they’re too “mushy” and won’t touch them. Even the unripe, green bananas are too mushy for him now. He liked them last week. Today he hates them. There were two fruits he would eat, the other being apples. If they weren’t mushy. He likes mushy food. He practically lives off mashed potatoes. He’s like that with other foods, too. He will eat carrots unless you tell him there’s carrots in his meal. The only meat he’ll eat that’s not mashed into mashed potatoes is ham and haddock. Simply put, he’s a typical picky eater. The silver lining here is that we no longer have a fruit fly farm.
2. His toast was cut into too many triangles.
Now he won’t touch it. He wanted it cut into two triangles, diagonally. I forgot to ask and I cut into four triangles. I might as well have spread bananas across it. I remember a time when my uncle was trying to prepare a hotdog for this same child. Naturally, he got it wrong the first time. After he was told by said 4 year old child what to do he tried to rectify the situation. It still wasn’t right. Why? Because you can never please an asshole child. It’s not that the bar is set too high. It’s that there is no f***ing bar.
3. He killed his brother just watch him die.
They like to play Lego Star Wars for the Wii. First off, it’s Star Wars! Second off, it’s Lego! It’s a great work together kind of game. Therefore as long as they’re playing nice I don’t mind giving them some extra screen time. The problem is, they often don’t play nice. Bang gets stuck and his big brother won’t help. Instead, he starts shooting his blaster at him. Or, even better, goes all Dark Side and kills him with a light saber. The sole reason? Just to watch his little brother’s character explode into tiny Lego pieces, killed him on purpose like he’s Johnny Cash’s Folsom Prison Blues.
4. He’s not being nice to his brother’s stuffie.
Crash loves his stuffies. He has a queen size bed (hand me down) and what space his little-no-so-little body doesn’t use is taken up by stuffies. He treats them as if they were real animals. It’s the Velveteen Rabbit all over again, minus the scarlet fever. It’s good to see him so loving and caring and gentle. I just wish he’d treat his brother similarly. His brother, on the other hand, fully understands the stuffies aren’t real. They can’t be hurt. It doesn’t matter how hard or often you throw them against the wall they won’t talk. It doesn’t matter how many times you jump on their head, they just won’t cry. But you know… it’s all in the name of pissing off your brother for killing you on purpose.
5. He didn’t share the last of the ice cream.
Imagine having three scoops of ice cream left. I know it’s hard to picture, but just try. Just a little bit left that didn’t get eaten. Perhaps it was saved for later, like after the kids go to bed, but then you fell asleep with the kids and didn’t get to eat it. Then, after supper the oldest child finds it while looking for dessert because God forbid he not get dessert. Then he proceeds to clean out the tub and lick it clean. Meanwhile, his little brother gets nothing. I made sure little brother got extra cookies to make big brother jealous, too. Unfortunately, this isn’t a phase, though we’re trying our hardest to teach them to do good.
6. He doesn’t hold the door open.
He lets it slam on the person behind him. Could be me, his mother, his little brother. He gets through the door and he doesn’t let it hit him on the ass on his way out. This goes for both little heathens. Even getting into the truck, they absolutely refuse to let each other in “their side” unless strictly requested. Fortunately, this is only at home and in the truck. But still…
7. I mopped the floor last night.
This morning they are eating pancakes on the living room floor. Sticky, syrupy pancakes.
“That’s okay. I love to be your maid”
~No Parent Ever
- They’re tracking muddy shoes across a freshly vacuumed floor.
- They’re flinging toothpaste on a freshly cleaned bathroom mirror
- They’re jumping on a freshly made bed
- They peed on the toilet that I just finished cleaning pee off
- They put a dirty dish in a sink that I just emptied by washing and drying all the dirty dishes that were in it.
- They spilled strawberry jam on a counter I scrubbed clean 30 seconds ago
- They dumped the crayon bucket to find peach on a kitchen table I just cleared off for supper
No doubt, whatever it was that was just cleaned will be wrecked in 30 seconds or less or the next one’s free.
8. He’s aiming a Nerf gun at his brother.
While I enjoy a good Nerf gun fight, they can’t be had in our house for a couple reasons. When we start a fight it’s all fun and games. Then someone runs out of darts and has to call a timeout. During the timeout someone gets tired of waiting starts shooting. The victim then proceeds to go batshit crazy. The second scenario is that the game ends except someone doesn’t know it ended and continues firing. Like the USS Shenandoah that continued to chase down and sink Union ships six months after the Confederacy collapsed. Which brings us to the second reason. The youngest hates to have darts shot at him. Whether he was shot at close range, had his eye shot out, or took one to the face, or all of the above, he hates to even have a Nerf gun pointed at him. Loaded or not. Johnny could easily have sung, I shot my brother just to hear him scream”.
9. I told him not to touch the cart.
Then, he touched the cart. It’s a stupid rule. Both Crash and I know it’s a stupid rule. Neither one us are allowed to touch the shopping cart. That’s Bang’s job. He has passed up a trip to the bookstore and the promise of picking out books to go grocery shopping just so he can push the cart. He does not want help with it, either. So the rule is, don’t touch the cart. I will not subject you to hearing the hissy fit that occurrs when the cart is touched.
10. He farted.
In the truck. At the table. In the living room. While brushing his teeth. In his brother’s room. The stench from it is enough to peel the paint off the walls. It’s all fun and games and hilarious when he does it. Guess what ensues when someone else does it? All Hell? Yeah, it breaks loose. Oh sure, farts are hilarious, but only when they’re your own. We easily know who dropped a destroyer because the other will lose his shit.
*Disclaimer: They are not like this all the time. I picked out specific instances that they did jerk things. Hopefully, to provide humor and solace to those have kids who do asshole things, too. We love our two assholes very dearly.
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All In A Dad's Work 