Will work for food

My kids have been driving me stark.raving.mental lately.

They are wonderful children, really. Nevertheless, I offered to sell them to my mother, cheap. I said both came with their own wardrobes and furnishings, as well as toys. Anyone in the know knows just how much the accessories cost---far more than the actual children themselves. I also offered that if she acted now, shipping would be free.

She turned me down, without even needing a moment to think (which I offered).

I ask you, is that anyway for a grandmother to behave?

Yeah, I know, she raised her own already.

But did she need to add, "HA! As IF! I thought you were tough to raise but HA HA HA then I met your children!" She laughed some more.

Probably thinking how well that curse worked out. You know the one, "SOME DAY I HOPE YOU HAVE KIDS JUST LIKE YOU! OR WORSE!"

Look at that, bonus curse on me for no extra charge.

Anyway, they are cute but very, very high-maintenance. SHHHHH!!!! I know what you are thinking, what kid isn't? Trust me on this...some are just a little MORE than others. Call them spirited, call them wild, whatever you like. It isn't a discipline issue; it's a personality issue.

Today my kid got time out at school. For using Naughty Language that the teacher would not even repeat to me. I painted total shock on my face...but inside I was remembering calling that little Honda that cut me off doing 90 on the freeway yesterday, and I do quote, "TOTAL AND UTTER BUSH-LOVING SHITHEAD!"

Please oh please tell me it was more inocuous, like poopyhead (a current favorite of her and her group of friends).

The teacher had no further details but did say that my darling had a "rough day" full of "poor choices." She said she handled it---and I am sure she did---and assured me there was no need for further action at home.

Wow...do I have a reputation as an ass-kicker? Of my adorable and sweet little children?

All I can say is that my little precious had her last birthday and was possessed by the spirit of Joan Crawford. My husband and I have asked the local priest---a marvelous Irish fellow full of humor, wit and reality---but apparently the Catholic Church has gotten very iffy about exorcisms. Something about bad press.

I can see the teacher's point; I think my daughter was just having a Manic Monday. Which, of course, will be followed by a Terrible Tuesday, Whackadoo Wednesday and oh, you get the picture.

The most charming moment---yes, something trumped the visual of my angel calling a classmate a bush-loving shithead on the playground---was my sweetie bumping her toe and melting into a quadraplegic pool on the sidewalk, "I-i-i-i-i-i-i c-a-a-a-a-a-n't {snuffle} {sniff} w-a-a-a-a-a-l-l-l-k-k-k-k Mom." Hysterical sobbing.

Her friends looked on with rubber-neck interest, but I noticed nobody said goodbye to her when she left.

Her punishment?

I am so awful.

I let her go home with the aforementioned verbally assaulted child (who is neither a shithead, nor, to my knowledge, a bush-lover) and play all afternoon.

But really, the two for one sales deal---accessories included and act now for no shipping!---is still up for grabs. The little one does tricks (see photo above) and will work for food, especially Twizzlers. Be careful though: her dignity is easily affronted and she makes the big one look EASY.

As for me? Back to the salt mines.

And people wonder why I dress like Mr. Rogers Visits So-Ho: rumply, raggedy, frazzled frump.

By Julie Pippert
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