School starts on Wednesday. Can I get an amen??? No, really. They are starting a week earlier than they did last year, and about a month ago, I was all, “what? That’s so stupid!” But now I am like, I NEED TO KISS THE PERSON ON THE LIPS WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS. Call it cabin fever, call it summertime blues, call it my kids are total assholes, but their behavior has been off the charts all week. I literally cannot wait for them to go back to school. Even though I work and I’m not with them during the day, I feel like the return to their school routine will somehow iron out the kinks in their brains that are making them act like complete douchebags.
Cases in point:
I came home from work one night this week, pulled into our one-car garage, and said hello to my six-year-old, who was riding his bike. I went inside and had a two minute conversation with my husband only to realize that we had both assumed, via a misscommunication over text, that the other of us was going to pick up cat food on our way home. I regrouped for maybe five minutes and went back outside. The six year old was acting like the cat that swallowed the canary, but I just thought “ain’t nobody got time fo’ that” and continued to my car.
When I got in, I realized that there was this white sploogy stuff all over my windshield which DEFINITELY wasn’t there five minutes ago when I had come home. I may have uttered an f-bomb before getting back out and asking my six year old if he knew anything about it. The acting job was commendable, but I could tell that he definitely did know what had happened, and just was not telling me. I told him to go turn the hose on, because I was going to need to spray down the car before going to get the cat food.
Once I backed the car out, I noticed that the white substance was also all over my hood and dripping down the front of the car. And, there was a white puddle on the floor of the garage. But nothing obvious to tell me what the source of the spillage was. I noticed it had an odor to it, something unpleasant, but nothing I could identify as, for instance, paint or weed killer or anything like that.
Through some serious Scooby Doo mystery work, my husband and I were able to finally deduce that the six year old got it in his head to spray deer repellant in our garden. Why, you might ask? We are still trying to figure that one out. So, he did that, which is weird in and of itself, and then tried to put the bottle of Deer-B-Gon on the shelf in the garage, which happens to be above my car. He must not have closed the top all the way, and he must not have gotten it on the shelf all the way, and thus, coyote urine and other fine blends of things deer don’t like was dumped all over my (black? did I mention my car is black?) vehicle. Then he must have picked up the bottle, capped it and put it back like nothing happened.
EXHIBIT B:
Last night, we went out to eat. There are very few restaurants we can go to that all four of us like, and that don’t have a huge wait on Saturday nights. Basically your hole in the wall local spots are our only choices. We went to an Italian place that 3/4 of us were ok with going to. (The older child was just not into going out at all last night. Major attitude from the get-go.) We got seated right away, and the hostess brought us some water while we waited for our server.
We waited. And waited some more.
While we waited, my six year old dumped a few sugar packets into his water and stirred it around with his fork. As we perused the menu, I didn’t notice that he grabbed 3 or 4 more packets and dumped those in there, too. By the time we did, it was too late. So, whatever, I let it go. But then, for some reason, he decided to drop the paper packets themselves into his glass. WHY????????? We took it from him, and then he refused to order a drink when the server finally came to take our drink order. Then he was mad when she came back and didn’t have anything for him.
We had the slowest service I have ever had in this restaurant. We saw tables around us get seated, order, get their food, pay and leave while we had still only had an appetizer. And the kids were just relentless. Fighting, pushing their chairs back into the people at the table behind us, going to the bathroom umpteenthousand times. I am a type two diabetic and my blood sugar was low when we walked in. So, waiting for the food felt like the life was just slowly draining out of me. And the lower my blood sugar, the worse my kids were acting. I told my husband that this was what hell on earth felt like. It felt like we were there for four hours. I think it was closer to two.
EXHIBIT C:
All the damn fighting. My boys wrestle and play rough, and as an only child and a female, this is strange territory for me. I don’t know when it crosses the line into really hurting each other, and all the screaming just sets me on edge. They’ve been doing it more and more, and the more I tell them to stop, the more they do it. And then someone always ends up getting hurt – usually the little one. I can’t stand it.
So I am glad school starts this week. I have their school supplies organized and packed in their backpacks, ready to roll for Wednesday morning. Please, teachers, knock some sense back into these boys!