Now I realize this probably isn’t the most politically correct post I’ll ever do, but it’s never stopped me before, so I don’t see why it should now – a few weeks ago I started plotting revenge on my kids!
It all started one Sunday morning when my youngest woke me up at 5:45am. ON A SUNDAY! Not only has she woken me up, she has also woken my eldest up, double trouble. AND on closer inspection I discover that the reason she has woken me up is because she has done a particularly nasty poop in her diaper – the messy kind! I would probably be more forgiving of this if I hadn’t been out with friends for dinner the night before, had several glasses of wine and gone to bed rather late.
Lying on the couch, an annoyingly chirpy Elmo on TV momentarily entertaining my kids, I think, “when does this crack of dawn torture end?” The most likely point in time I suppose is when they’re teenagers, when you can’t prize them out of bed with a crowbar on any morning. And now my mind turns to revenge. After all, they’ll be teenagers and biologically programmed to hate me anyway, so I may as well have a little fun with it right?
But how? I could set their alarm early at the weekend and whilst they’re still half asleep tell them it’s Monday and they’re late for school and there is a test they’ve forgotten about – no too weak. I’ll tell them there is a store opening at 7am that has just 50 pairs of the newest, coolest sneakers that no one can get hold of! Of course this may involve me having to get up to drive them somewhere, that’s no good. Got it! I’ll tell them that the latest big pop group (you know the one all the teenage girls are dreaming about), are going to be on weekend morning TV sometime between 5am and 7am. And the first 20 people to call in after they arrive on screen get to meet them in person. Yeah, that’s good and mean.
While I’m on this track, what else do I need payback for? Watching the same TV show over and over and over. Sheer mental torture! Especially when they seem to choose the most repetitive, banal and irritating shows, it almost seems deliberate. What would be the appropriate retaliation for that? How about a mandatory family movie night, with musicals? We could have The Sound of Music, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Annie! Of course that could be just as much torture for me.
Here is a good one though, how about all those times they had a mega tantrum and embarrassed me in public? That one’s easy, I just turn up early to pick them up from the school dance, dressed unbelievably badly, maybe something dug up from the 90s lurking in the back of my cupboard (always supposing it’s not fashionable again) and then show all their friends some of my best moves on the dance floor.
And finally, the biggie, all those times they’ve interrupted an intimate moment with the hubby. Oh, boy is dating time going to be fun – staring out the window when their date drops them off, followed by rushing out at the pivotal kissing moment shouting, “hey no touching, 2 feet between you at all times kids, cookies and milk waiting for you in the kitchen sweetie.”
Yeah, the plan is coming together nicely. Or perhaps I just need an ibuprofen and a little nap!