Here’s the thing: you have a lot of toys. You don’t play with half of them. So I decided to gather some up and sell them to Once Upon a Child. I explained this to you and you didn’t seem to care. You even waved goodbye to the toys.
But then we got to Once Upon a Child. You got a horrified look on your face when I handed over the bin filled with toys that you haven’t touched, much less looked at, in months. Then suddenly you shrieked, “MINE!” and practically leaped on the poor, terrified Once Upon a Child worker who didn’t seem to know what to do next. She was frozen with fear, the bin in her hands and then there you were in your 32 and a half inch glory attempting to attack her.
Natalie, you made me feel horrible. Other customers were tossing me disapproving looks as though they thought I was selling your stuff for an easy buck. I wasn’t! I wanted to explain that we live in base housing and space is limited and that you didn't even CARE about these toys anymore.
Instead I told you in a firm voice that it was time to go.
I had to grab you around the waist and carry you out to the car while you were thrashing manically like a mad woman.
“I’m sorry. She’s two!” I shouted to the people who had stopped to gape at us.
After I strapped you into your car seat you suddenly stopped with the crying and gave me a sweet smile.
Sometimes I think you like to cause a scene to get attention, my dear. Please stop that. You may find it amusing but I do not.
Signed,
Your-now-partially-deaf-mother-thanks-to-the-screams,
Amber
-------------------------
Dear annoying neighborhood kid,
No, you can’t come inside the house. Not even if you say the word please a billion times with your hands clasped under your chin. Not even if you bring me a box of chocolates. Not even if John Krasinski is your Uncle and you were able to arrange a date.
Well, okay, maybe then.
Signed,
A-Jim-Loving,
Amber
-------------
Dear Tommy,
I believe you’re a little confused, son. I think it’s fantastic that you love to read. But when the book mentions that a character shouts, you really don’t have to raise your voice. It startles Mommy. You know that loud thud you heard after YOU PRACTICALLY SCREAMED what a character in your book said? That was your mother jumping out of her skin and knocking the trash can over.
Indoor voice, sweetie. Indoor voice.
Signed,
A-Much-Too-Skittish,
Amber
-------------------
Dear Jack Black,
Now I can’t get that image of you stuffed in DJ Lance’s orange spandex ensemble out of my head.
Good God.
Signed,
A-Scarred-For-Life,
Amber
--------------
Dear Tom,
I’m close to giving up.
You always whine that you’re sick of seeing me in my “ugly and not sexy” nightgowns. You seem to take offense when I sport my Happy Bunny pajamas that say: “Boys are funny when they try to think.” (It’s true. I’m sorry.)
So I went out and bought something that I thought you’d find sexy.
I waited for you on the bed in my new ensemble. Darling, it itched like mad but I figured it would be worth it for your reaction.
You walked into the room and your eyes grew as big as saucers. Then I got up and sashayed over to you.
“You like?” I asked in what I hoped was a sexy voice. I should have kept it at that. But I apparently need Sexy Lessons because then I continued with, “It’s a teddy....”
Then you burst out laughing.
Which isn’t a nice thing to do when a woman is standing in front of you practically naked.
I slapped your arm lightly and demanded to know what your deal was. Didn’t you realize how ITCHY the stupid lingerie was? There was no time for giggles!
“A TEDDY?” you shouted between guffaws. “What, did you go into a toy store and make your outfit out of a teddy bear? HAHA a TEDDY!”
I mean, seriously Tom.
There is a TIME and a PLACE!
Then you had the nerve to get insulted when I stalked out of the room. Did you honestly think that sex would be taking place after that?
To make sure this never happens again Tom, let's review.
This is a TEDDY BEAR:
And this, dear husband, is a TEDDY:
Signed,
A-Frustrated,
Amber
No comments:
Post a Comment