I roll over and he is now lying on my stomach and I am suddenly and instantly made very much aware that I really really really really need to pee. "OH MY GOD GET OFF ME I REALLY HAVE TO PEE" I shriek, and he says "I'll get off you if you come play Mario Kart with me." So I just give him a really good shove and I head off to the bathroom.
Ahhhhh. That's better! So... I'm sittin there, y'know... doin, uh... my thing.... and suddenly the door opens wide and in comes Child 1. Our bathroom is connected to our bedroom and I can see past him into the bedroom to see that hubs and Child 2 are on the bed there.... lookin at me... and I say "OH MY GOD CLOSE THE DOOR!!" He says "well, let me just do one thing real quick" and comes into the room, leaving the door wide open. "NO!" I shriek for the 2nd time in 2 minutes now. "CLOSE THE DOOR NOW!!" And so he does, but with him on the inside. Of course.
He does his thing, which is to get a very slow drink of water, and then he leaves, only closing the door behind him because I yell at him to close the door behind him, and I continue to sit there... doin, y'know.... stuff.... when suddenly the door is flung open once again and I see Child 2 standing there with what appears to be a ziploc bag full of pancakes. "Hey Mama, guess what?" he says. I bet he wants to tell me that he's holding a ziploc bag full of pancakes, but at that moment I don't particularly care, to be honest, so I say "CLOSE THE DOOR!!!" to which he responds "okay, yeah, but first-" and I just cut him off, and am now no longer shrieking, I am yelling. "NO! CLOSE THE DOOR!!" He looks offended and slams the door shut.
It turned out that he wanted to tell me that he had a ziploc bag full of pancakes. I found it lying on my bed when I came out of the bathroom.
|Okay, so... wait. WHAT are you holding? Oh. That's just my ziploc bag full of pancakes.|
Later in the day, I'm taking a shower, when the bathroom door is once again opened and in walks Child 2, who, without saying a word, proceeds to walk in, pull down his pants, sit on the toilet and take an enormous dump. With me in the room. Showering. When he is finished, he then has the nerve to say "Mama, can you get out of the shower and come help me wipe my butt?"
NO. No, I will not get out of the shower and help you wipe your butt. Walk around with a crack-full of shit, for all I care, just get the hell out of my bathroom. I tell him to go find his father. He leaves (leaving the door open, of course) and I don't know what happened after that because he didn't return.
Now, I know that these stories of mine are not unique. I know that every parent deals with this kind of shoddy treatment from their children and that you all have stories of your own, but here's the thing.... I think I figured it out! The reason our children treat us so horribly is that our generation is raising our children to have self confidence and good self esteem, without even the fear of physical retaliation for their wrongdoings. The unfortunate outcome of this kind of upbringing, however, is that our children do not fear us.
We need to change our ways, fellow parents! No longer should we simply lie back and accept this horrible treatment from our offspring! When a child is standing outside that bathroom door, what we want them to think is "hmmm. Mama would totally kick my ass if I open this door and come in, I'd better just hold it." We need to put the fear of god into these kids, people. THEN we'll get some respect. Who's with me????
I got back at them, though. All day long whenever one of them walked by me I would grab them and squeeze the fuck out of them and say "I love you and I'm never letting you go, never ever ever letting you go" until they screamed "LET ME GO!!"
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!! That'll learn 'em.....