My baby, Sugah Pie, turns 13 today. It's official...she's a TEENAGER. She's been reminding us, both figuratively and literally, for months.
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"Only XX number of days until my birthday."
"Wow. It's getting close."
"So, for my present, I'd like one of those Chocolate phones."
"We already bought you a cell phone. You don't need another one."
"Okay." *insert baleful-eyed glance* "Then...can I have a laptop?"
Snort.
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"Only XX number of days until my birthday."
"I know. Sounds like you're getting pretty excited."
*insert batting eyelashes* "About that laptop..."
Snort.
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"Only X number of days until my birthday."
"Yes, you've mentioned that a few (hundred) times."
"Have you bought my present yet?"
"You're not getting a laptop."
Disgusted huff.
"Guess what?"
I don't know why I keep falling for that stupid question, but I do. "What?"
"Only x number of days until my birthday."
"Look, kid, knock it off, okay? I know. I was there, too."
"Geez, you don't have to be so grouchy."
Deep breath. "Pie, you've been reminding us for weeks, every single day." *insert reassuring smile* "It's not like we'll forget your birthday, sweetie."
"Well, DUH!" *insert tortured sigh* "I'm not stupid you know." *insert glare copyrighted by teens.
"Sugah Pie, what's going on with this countdown?"
"I just REALLY want to know what you got me."
"Well, you're just going to have to wait."
"Can I have a hint?"
"Well, it's not a laptop."
"You're so mean."
"Yes, I'm aware. Thank your brother and sister."
She actually lay her head on my shoulder. "Puleeeeze, Mommy?"
SNORT.
As you can imagine, this got pretty tiresome. I wanted to take her focus off the material expectation and give her a little reminder on manners and priorities, so I called her into the bedroom a few weeks ago. We told her that since she's been complaining her bed is uncomfortable and we're re-decorating her room, we decided to get her a new bed and bedding for her birthday.
"You're kidding."
We shook our heads. As she started the complaint warm-up, I raised an eyebrow.
"Sugah Pie, let's not forget...a gift is up to the person who GIVES it, and we should always be appreciative. If the recipient doesn't like the gift, they can talk to friends or siblings, but it would be rude to say anything to the gift-giver."
The next day, Sweet Pea pulled me aside.
"Are you guys buying her a bed for her birthday?"
"Ummm. No, but please don't tell her that."
"Okay," she laughed. "Don't tell her I told you this. She came into my room last night, all depressed. Flopped down on my bed and said, 'Guess what I'm getting for my birthday? A bed. A friking BED!!! Who gets a friking bed for their friking 13th birthday?!?!?'"
Perhaps I am an evil mother, but I couldn't help it...I laughed my ass off.
She kept giving us the birthday countdown, which turned into the hourly countdown last night, but I didn't have to hear another word about a laptop. Hopefully, she'll like the digital camera we did get. If she doesn't, we're adopting some of those little starving kids from Zimbabwe they always show on TV and presenting her with their picture for Christmas.
"Look what we got you! Bet they wouldn't mind a friking bed."
Here's some AFMEIR....the first one looks remarkably like my daughter did when I told her she was getting a new bed : )
I understand how scissors can beat paper, and I get how a rock can beat scissors, but there's no fucking way paper can beat rock. Is paper supposed to magically wrap around rock and leave it immobile? Why the hell can't paper do this to scissors? Screw scissors, why can't paper do this to people? Why aren't sheets of ruled notepaper constantly suffocating students as they take notes in class? I'll tell you why, because paper can't beat anybody. A rock would tear that shit up in two seconds. When I play rock, paper, scissors, I always choose rock. Then when somebody claims to have beaten me with their paper, I can punch them in the face with my already clenched fist and say, "Oh shit, I'm sorry. I thought paper would protect you, you asshole."
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"Only XX number of days until my birthday."
"Wow. It's getting close."
"So, for my present, I'd like one of those Chocolate phones."
"We already bought you a cell phone. You don't need another one."
"Okay." *insert baleful-eyed glance* "Then...can I have a laptop?"
Snort.
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"Only XX number of days until my birthday."
"I know. Sounds like you're getting pretty excited."
*insert batting eyelashes* "About that laptop..."
Snort.
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"Only X number of days until my birthday."
"Yes, you've mentioned that a few (hundred) times."
"Have you bought my present yet?"
"You're not getting a laptop."
Disgusted huff.
"Guess what?"
I don't know why I keep falling for that stupid question, but I do. "What?"
"Only x number of days until my birthday."
"Look, kid, knock it off, okay? I know. I was there, too."
"Geez, you don't have to be so grouchy."
Deep breath. "Pie, you've been reminding us for weeks, every single day." *insert reassuring smile* "It's not like we'll forget your birthday, sweetie."
"Well, DUH!" *insert tortured sigh* "I'm not stupid you know." *insert glare copyrighted by teens.
"Sugah Pie, what's going on with this countdown?"
"I just REALLY want to know what you got me."
"Well, you're just going to have to wait."
"Can I have a hint?"
"Well, it's not a laptop."
"You're so mean."
"Yes, I'm aware. Thank your brother and sister."
She actually lay her head on my shoulder. "Puleeeeze, Mommy?"
SNORT.
As you can imagine, this got pretty tiresome. I wanted to take her focus off the material expectation and give her a little reminder on manners and priorities, so I called her into the bedroom a few weeks ago. We told her that since she's been complaining her bed is uncomfortable and we're re-decorating her room, we decided to get her a new bed and bedding for her birthday.
"You're kidding."
We shook our heads. As she started the complaint warm-up, I raised an eyebrow.
"Sugah Pie, let's not forget...a gift is up to the person who GIVES it, and we should always be appreciative. If the recipient doesn't like the gift, they can talk to friends or siblings, but it would be rude to say anything to the gift-giver."
The next day, Sweet Pea pulled me aside.
"Are you guys buying her a bed for her birthday?"
"Ummm. No, but please don't tell her that."
"Okay," she laughed. "Don't tell her I told you this. She came into my room last night, all depressed. Flopped down on my bed and said, 'Guess what I'm getting for my birthday? A bed. A friking BED!!! Who gets a friking bed for their friking 13th birthday?!?!?'"
Perhaps I am an evil mother, but I couldn't help it...I laughed my ass off.
She kept giving us the birthday countdown, which turned into the hourly countdown last night, but I didn't have to hear another word about a laptop. Hopefully, she'll like the digital camera we did get. If she doesn't, we're adopting some of those little starving kids from Zimbabwe they always show on TV and presenting her with their picture for Christmas.
"Look what we got you! Bet they wouldn't mind a friking bed."
Here's some AFMEIR....the first one looks remarkably like my daughter did when I told her she was getting a new bed : )
I understand how scissors can beat paper, and I get how a rock can beat scissors, but there's no fucking way paper can beat rock. Is paper supposed to magically wrap around rock and leave it immobile? Why the hell can't paper do this to scissors? Screw scissors, why can't paper do this to people? Why aren't sheets of ruled notepaper constantly suffocating students as they take notes in class? I'll tell you why, because paper can't beat anybody. A rock would tear that shit up in two seconds. When I play rock, paper, scissors, I always choose rock. Then when somebody claims to have beaten me with their paper, I can punch them in the face with my already clenched fist and say, "Oh shit, I'm sorry. I thought paper would protect you, you asshole."
1 comment:
speakin' of 'tards....could you post the pics. so we can actually SEE them???? (and possibly be forced to steal them) gosh...
LYMI
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