Kids will take everything you value, then steal it and smear it with goo – your free time, sleep, elegant time spent alone taking a poop. But, the upside is rich.
I’m not talking about the beautiful way they make you see life anew through their eyes or how they make your heart walls pulse a little more readily. Nope. Kids are worth it because they are a 24/7 Get out of Jail Free Card.
You can blame EVERYTHING on them. It is your right and privilege as a parent.
Let me demonstrate how freely and easily I play this card with my handy list of:
10 things I handily (and daily) blame on my kid:
1. Wet Floors.
Husband: “What the hell happened in the bathroom?”
Me: Pokes head in bathroom, “MAAAAN, her hand washing skills are bullshit!” The truth: Me, washing my face with 16 potions and lotions without my contacts in, then walking away from a sink and bathroom floor that could sustain 14 koi fish.
2. Why We Have No Good Food.
Husband, eagerly calling from the living room, “Do we have any of that (delicious food) left?”
Me, in the kitchen swallowing the last bit of (delicious food), “Shrmofghftjg.” *Pause* *Swallow* “Sorry, I gave Stella the last one before bed.” The truth: Me, shoving empty container that once held (delicious food) deep into trash.
Me: “STELLA!” The truth: Me, happily eating about a head of cauliflower for lunch as part of a recipe that did NOT say “butt plug required.”
4. Why I Can’t Go To That Place/Event/Party.
Me, via text because talking on the phone is only for emergency services: “Maaaaaan, I SO want to come to that, buuuuuut Stella is sick.”
The truth: Me, turning off my phone, ignoring kid and queueing up more Netflix.
5. Why I’m So Tired.
Me to coworker, suppressing tonsil-clearing yawn and pouring coffee into a small jug, “Ugh, she was up most of the night with bad dreams again!”
The truth: Me, propped up in bed with owls and bats, simultaneously watching Netflix and scrolling Instagram with dead bloodshot eyes.
6. Why The Floor Hasn’t Been Vacuumed.
Me to friends: “The sound of the vacuum scares the shit out of her. I just don’t want to be that confrontational Tough Love Mom, y’know?”
The truth: Taking the vacuum out, emptying the gritty bucket attachment because I didn’t want to do it and gag last time, choking on dust clots, unwinding the cord, plugging in the cord, moving things around the room so I can diligently suck up shit under them, then moving everything back, then repeating for each room in the apartment suuucks. That’s why the quick “scan and grab for crumbs” when people are coming in the front door works just as well.
7. Why My Stomach Isn’t Ripped.
Me, to childless people: “Yeah, once you have a kid that part of your body just will never rebound.” Sadface.
Truth: Not ever, EVER in my life, has my stomach been toned. I could be attached to an As-Seen-On-TV muscle shock machine 24/7, eat only egg whites and garlic scapes, and plank while I sleep and still never ever see any definition in my abdominals.
8. Why The Car Is A Mess.
Me, to the person I’m giving a ride to: (Sheepish smile) “Kids, right? They’re crumb factories.”
The truth: A montage of me yell-singing a medley of 1998 punk songs while finishing a bag of Doritos, an apple, half a pound cake and a watermelon, and then tossing the remains into the back seat.
9. Why I Couldn’t Finish This Post.
I decided to press pause on my writing and spend some quality time with my kid who, really, will only be this young once.
The truth: An opportunity for a nap presented itself, so I stole it. Now, that’s a crime I’m pretty sure doesn’t warrant any jail time.
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