So last night, I was down at the bar. I go to the bar often because that’s where my cousin’s husband works. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be there as often.
Last night the bar had a decent amount of people in it, mostly herds of boys. Which was weird. Anyway, we were at our normal spot on the corner of the bar. Tony was bar tending and he had a whole bunch of plastic Mardi Gras beads. He was giving them to Heather and myself and one of Heather’s friends that was there. We were wearing the plastic beads because, well, why not? Almost Mardi Gras, night before Valentine’s Day, general tomfoolery going down – time for beads. Totally time for the beads.
Heather said that she was going down to the bar on Tuesday night as well, perhaps. Of course, then I will really have the in for getting the beads and I will WIN and everyone will be jealous. Of my winning. With the beads.
There were girls coming up to us, all like “WHERE DID YOU GET THOSE BEADS?!?” like it was gold or something. They are plastic beads and girls are losing because we have them and they do not. Then boys are walking up to us and asking us what we did to get the beads.
We stood here. And I’m half related to the guy handing them out. So….that’s how I got the beads. No, you can’t see my boobs. Sorry.
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Or maybe something like it. We will see how long this lasts. I’m hoping a while, at least.
Where to begin?
On Christmas, I ended up going down to the bar, as my cousin’s husband is a bartender and had to work on Christmas. I had been drinking all day, so what did it matter if I kept on drinking at the bar? It didn’t. So I was there with my cousins and having a great time. A group of guys walked in and were sort of talking with us. But not really.
Then a beer appeared in front of me, courtesy of a boy down at the corner of the bar named Tim.
Why thank you Tim, I do so love beer.
So I started talking to Tim. He was cute and funny and very charming and a CHEF and you know, sort of like an adult male with his shit seemingly together. We talked for a long long while, exchanged numbers and flirted. I have foggy memories of this because I had been drinking for 13 HOURS, so you know – my brain didn’t work.
I leave the bar to go back to my cousin’s house and Tim is texting me the whole time. And he’s texting me the next morning. We make plans to get together. And we do. We meet down at the bar again and have a nice night of drinks and conversation…and making out in a parking lot for 2 hours. We both have homes – but the parking lot was there. And it was easy.
Why is making out with someone in a parking lot like you’re 16 again so thrilling? Like, awesomely so. I’ve been waiting to do that again for AGES and HOLY CRAP, so much fun.
And yes, I’m that girl.
That brings us to New Year’s Eve. He keeps on texting me, I keep on texting him. It is making me smile because it’s been a long time since a boy has been interested in me. We make plans for Sunday. He says that he’s going to come over and make dinner for Lilo and I. Lilo is excited, I am excited and you know, boys!
He comes over. He makes us dinner. He hangs out with me. We have some fun times together. There are some awkward moments, as there are when you’re having sexy moments with new people. You don’t know what they like, they don’t know what you like, but you know, it happens.
I apparently did…SOMETHING that was wrong. I don’t know what that something was, but it was something. And since last Sunday, I’ve had minimal contact with him. He texted me once on Monday and then I really didn’t hear from him again. We were going to go out on Friday but once he stopped talking to me, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. He left my house saying that yes, we were going to hang out, but totally did not want to touch me. He went from being all over me to nothing in like, 12 hours flat.
I would really love to know what the hell I did or didn’t do to make this guy be so not about me. Maybe it’s something within him. But whatever happened – it’s done now. So – that’s helpful.
Because my life can’t be simple, A was involved too. I hadn’t been talking to him as much as I had been once Tim was in the picture, and that tipped him off that something was up. I was then backed into a corner where I had to tell A that there was another boy that kind of liked me and so…yeah, now he knows.
I wasn’t dating A, but all of the sudden he was jealous and upset that I was sort of involved with someone else. And he was sad. The first question that A asked me was if I had slept with Tim yet. I can’t even explain how much that upset and offended me. I didn’t like the idea that the first thing that A thought I would do with a new guy is sleep with him. It’s not something I do and he KNOWS that, being that he dated me.
We talked for a while and after the conversation was done, I was upset. I didn’t want to have to tell A that way and he shouldn’t have been upset, given the fact that at any moment, if he wanted me to be around, he could have SAID SO and then, you know, problem solved.
No, not so much.
So now I have no men in my life. And that’s okay, I think. It’s frustrating to know that it doesn’t matter how old a guy is, he still can’t process life. Or maybe it’s just the guys I pick to spend time with. Regardless, they have issues that I can’t solve.
I would now like to start my great boy detox of 2010. I’m not going to chase after boys, they can chase after me. I’m not going to fawn over them if they have no interest. If they don’t like me, then that’s it. I’m not going to beat myself up and think I’m not good enough, as I always do because FUCK, I’m awesome. I have so many other things in my life now to focus my energy on – getting a job, getting back into the frame of mind to go to the gym, revamping Cupcake Land and making it AWESOME, repaying all the people that have been supportive and great and wonderful while I’ve been a holy terror – that I don’t need to have someone else sucking up all my attention.
I really don’t.
Last year at this time, my life was together for the most part. I had everything I needed. I went into the summer with my life being on an absolute high note. I need to get back to that time. I need to get my life back in order and back to being productive and having it be a good life.
I’m not saying that this boy detox is going to go as well as I think it will go. I’m sure I’ll cave and somehow end back in this place like, 4 months from now. But maybe not. Maybe since my life is going to be so different this year, I’ll be okay.
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Job update – still don’t have one. I have an interview tomorrow at another local hospital – one that my mom works at – so we will see how that goes. Having a job would be a very very wonderful Christmas present. I’m not going to get all excited about that though. Wish me luck tomorrow at 10 AM. That’s when I go to say “HEY, PLEASE TO HIRE ME. I NEEDS THE MONIES”
Other than my continuing funemployment, there isn’t much of anything else going on. There’s not a lot of baking in Cupcake Land, there are no interesting people to speak of and I’m just being a killer housewife. Tomorrow night I’m making meatballs for dinner. Lilo is just the luckiest lady around. She comes home and I’m dancing around in the kitchen, making dinner and being silly. I’ve generally had a few vodka drinks by then and it makes me much more content than I would normally be.
Speaking of vodka…something not good happened on the Saturday following Thanksgiving. I had my favorite aunt and Pam over for some pizza and wii. Except we never played the wii. But whatever. We were drinking and giggling and knitting (I never said I was cool) until I got a picture message on my phone. I didn’t think much of it, as my cousin was at a bar with my other cousins and they were sending me pictures of how much fun they were having. Thanks guys, you’re a bunch of jerks.
The picture message came from Him. The most evil of ex-boyfriends. He wanted to know if I thought that He should get a haircut. No word from him for over a year (huzzah!) and all of the sudden, He cares about what I think of His hair. If I hadn’t been drinking vodka, I would have ignored Him. But I had been and well – sometimes I just can’t be trusted. I texted Him back basically saying WTF and where the hell does He come from, thinking I’m going to answer this question.
But I did answer the question and told Him yes, He did need a haircut. He continued to text me and told me about things since He left bootcamp – basically His life has been crap. Thanks dude, welcome to the gang. He also said that he imagined that I looked great and had a fabulous life.
Sorta, but not so much.
He went on to ask me if I wasn’t busy, maybe I could come up and visit Him after his birthday. He wanted us to have some…”special times”. Uh, no. You really can’t expect me to go for that. I told Him NO, I WILL NOT SLEEP WITH YOU and then He got all pouty. As to be expected. His last (thank god) text message to me was one telling me how depressed He is now and how He will probably love me forever.
What the hell? Srsly.
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I’ve been out of a job for about a month now (in case maybe you don’t know how to read or something). It hasn’t been the most fun month, but there’s not a lot of jobs out there. So I do what I can and apply to things that I would be qualified for and that’s kind of how my day goes.
And then there’s my mother.
Maybe I haven’t really touched base on this much here, but my mom is kind of a raging bitch. She’s not very supportive of anything that I do, she doesn’t help with my general self esteem problems and she’s just basically the devil. When I got laid off, she asked if it was because of my work performance. THANKS MOM YOU ARE SO HELPFUL RIGHT NOW. She has been reminding me of all my failures in my life lately, because I need to know those, I guess? She’s been sort of nasty and mean and entirely not helpful.
I’ve been feeling like shit for a while now – mostly since I lost my job. It’s a huge blow to your life, mostly because you know, when you have a job that you like and it gets taken away, that sucks. A lot.
That kind of goes without saying though.
Anyway, my mom has taken it upon herself to tell EVERYONE that she knows that I am no longer employed. I’m sure that the best way for me to find a new job is to find someone that works somewhere that can help get me in and you know, make me be more than just a piece of paper. HOWEVER – my mom is telling her patients at work that I don’t have a job. She’s telling just about everyone that she knows that I don’t have a job. There are people that don’t even know me that know that I am unemployed and looking for work. Then these people start talking to me and asking me how things are and so on and it’s like – you shouldn’t know that I don’t have a job. But everyone does. It’s bothersome. I wish she would just STOP talking about it. I feel like crap, other people are making me feel like crap (for other reasons, which I might talk about in a moment) and I would really love her to not be that way.
But I can’t tell her not to tell anyone because then she tells me that I’m being a brat or being unappreciative or something. The fact is that I didn’t ask for her help – in fact, I don’t even want her help. She doesn’t want to help me because she wants me to get back on my feet. She wants to help me so that she can be right. She LOVES being right. It makes her happier than just about anything else. So if she knows the person that ends up helping me get a job, then she’s right and I’m wrong (even though there’s no way for me to be wrong) and that makes her happy.
It’s screwed up.
The other thing that is making me completely insane is the way that she’s been acting about things regarding money when it comes to me having no job. I’m not going to say that I’m completely broke, but you know, money is tight. I’m only spending money on groceries and gas and really nothing else – I got pizza when my brother J was visiting on Saturday night and otherwise, I haven’t gotten so much as a sandwich out. I know that it’s not something that I can do. My grandparents (my mom’s parents, actually) have offered to help me out if I ever needed some cash for something – rent, loan payments for school, doctors visits if I don’t have insurance – and my parents haven’t. I don’t want to take advantage of my grandparents that way. I really hope it will never come to that. But it’s nice to know that if it did, I could ask them and they would help me out.
I have gotten no such offer from my parents.
I wasn’t banking on them offering to help me out financially if I needed it, but you would think that maybe they would, knowing that I’m in a bit of a spot right now (having just moved out and all). They haven’t and I know they won’t. If my mom never offers, my dad won’t offer either – but then again, he only says 10 words to me every time he sees me. So when I told my mom that I owed Lisa the Trainer some money because she trained me, my mom just told me that she already paid the part that she agreed to pay. She didn’t say that she would cover it because she knows that things are rough where I am. She just glared.
The most that she’s done is bought me a few groceries. I’m not saying that it’s not helpful and I don’t appreciate it or anything like that. I’m saying WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?
Every afternoon my mom calls me and tells me how I could you know, fix my life. I don’t need her telling me this. I don’t need her helping me out this way. A has told me about 400 times that I should just ignore her and smile politely and say thank you. I can’t. She gets under my skin in ways that I didn’t think human beings could. She is not doing it out of kindness, but out of the way that she NEEDS to micromanage my life. Micromanage anyone’s life, actually.
So.
This leads to lots of shouty time in Cupcake Land, many afternoons of me crying and me hanging up on my mom about 5 times a week. I can’t take her. I would stop answering the phone – that’s what I should do. But she keeps on calling and calling and CALLING AND OMG CAN YOU PLEASE STOP?
Self esteem is at an all time low as of late. I don’t like being around many people, I don’t like pretending to be having fun and I’m sort of not looking forward to an entire weekend with my family. I’m stuck going and when I first said that I was going, it was when I had a job. Things have changed a lot since then.
I’m realizing who the people are that I want to have around. I can’t thank those people enough for being there for me. When this is all said and done, I hope that I’ll be back to my normal self. Soon.
Very soon.
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Last night, we all went down to the boat club because that’s what W wanted to do for his last night home. He leaves for college today (and since I’m funemployed, I’m going with my parents to drop him off).
Lilo got to join us. Oh the fun Lilo had, I’m sure.
But Indiana Joe the bartender was there. Oh was he ever there. I walked in and he smiled at me. I’m on to you, Indiana Joe. I actually didn’t end up getting myself that many drinks because people kept on buying them for me. The only time that I talked to him, I went up to the bar for some bugspray and he kept it friendly ad didn’t say much of anything. But I didn’t say anything about him not calling, about me giving him my number. No, I did not. I just smiled the smile that I use when I secretly loathe someone. It looks like a nice smile, but it’s not. It’s so not.
Indiana Joe remained silent mostly. Like he was entitled to say anything anyway.
Lilo was giving him death glares every time he walked by. Which he deserved. It was still amusing.
Let this be a lesson to all you boys – if you don’t call me when I give you my number and YOU FLIRT WITH ME, I’m going to glare at you until your head explodes. Watch what happens when I’m really angry. It was not a wise move on your behalf to ignore me. Don’t think I will be soon forgetting, idiot boyface.
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So guess what happened this weekend? If you guessed that the bartender did not call or text or even friend me on facebook, you’d be very very right. If you also guessed that I drank my weight in bud light and inhaled a giant pizza fritta by myself on Friday – I’m not going to deny it.
The bartender not calling and the bud light are not related. I would have drank just as much bud light even if he DID call. Of course, I wouldn’t have been so..uh…nasty to people if he had.
Whatever, done with that now. You had your chance, bartender man.
If I hadn’t been behind in my google reader, I would have read this blog and applied this advice to my life:
How do you hook up with a bartender in a “happily ever after” kind of a way without running the risk of being forcibly ejected from the bar? I mean, the normal signs of mutual-like are there…but isn’t it different with a bartender? Isn’t he *paid* to be nice to me? But he remembers my name, my drink, that I don’t like cherries, always comes over to talk to me….maybe I’m just an alcoholic who just tips well??? ~ Hannah-Lane
Bartenders are not allowed to sleep with you. It’s like hobo-code except instead of hobos they’re bartenders so it’s kind of a different code completely. But basically bartenders can’t sleep with you because they got you drunk and it’s a conflict of interest or statutory rape or something. I don’t know. I don’t know bartender code that well. But here are the basic points I know: If he gives you free drinks he probably likes you. If he sleeps with you, you just got engaged. If he tries to renege after sleeping with you he owes you a pony. This is the bartender code.
Crap. He totally owes me a goddamn pony now – even though I didn’t sleep with him. I have better people things to do.
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I commented briefly on how learning to drive a standard car is going. Here’s another update: I suck.
No really. I seriously do. But bless A’s heart, he’s not totally disgusted with me stalling out his car every 10 minutes. And that’s really what it was on Friday.
I started out okay. I was driving just fine. I got out of the driveway, I didn’t stall….and then…well, there was a hill. A tiny hill. And I lost my cool. People started honking at me. My nerves were shattered. There was a hill that wasn’t even that big, but I stalled a few times on it. We had to pull over so A could drive.
We went back to my house and decided to start again. That was just fine with me. I thought A and I could drive up to see future Cupcake Land. The roads we were going to drive on were mostly flat and didn’t involve me having to stop so much. WRONG. I WAS SO WRONG.
I got to a stop sign..stalled…cars honked, I cried. Got to the next stop sign and I was fine. Got to a third stop sign..stalled, cars honked. Got to a stop light and I was fine. After the 4th stop, I was shaking pretty hard. My nerves were totally shot and I was on edge. A kept on telling me that things were fine and I would be fine and there’s nothing that I could do to screw up his car or anything. I did not believe him.
We got to a light on the way to Cupcake Land and I stalled at it 4 times. I had to get out and let A drive because I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t make myself concentrate enough to drive. It was sad and I was super upset because it was just so lame.
And it’s not even that I can’t figure it out. It’s that my ratio of clutch to gas when shifting from a stop to first sucks so bad. I don’t know how to fix it. I mean, I suppose I do, but I have to go back to driving in parking lots until I can get a hold of myself and not get so upset when I drive. It’s silly that I get upset because it’s not like driving is new to me – it’s the shifting part. Once I get past first gear, I’m fine. I can cruise along in 2nd or 3rd or whatever and not have any issues. It’s getting there that throws me off.
At this rate, I will never ever drive the camaro. I’m starting to think that I’m okay with it. Besides, I don’t think that my parents want someone as spazzy as me behind the wheel. Although W can drive it – and I’m seriously more responsible than he is. I mean, he’s an 18 year old boy. He wants to pick up the ladies. I would just use it for boys to look at me. Clearly they wouldn’t be the boys that I want to date and they would not want to date me either, merely have sexy times with the car…but whatever. Close enough.
I think A and I are going to try it one more time. I’m hoping it won’t be craptastic times again, but I think that it might be. I don’t know when we will go driving, but I totally need a long break from being behind the wheel of his car.
I just need to remember – there’s no crying in driving stick.
(Also, that’s what she said.)
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I’ve wanted to update for several days now, but I’ve been working like crazy and doing all sorts of stuff after work and this is the first few moments that I’ve had to blog and well…this post is going to be a mishmash of things. Here we go….
- My grandma had her hip replaced on Monday. I went to go and see her Tuesday night. She’s doing okay, but she’s in a lot of pain. And since my family is the way that they are, they are turning this into a thing because one of my uncles hasn’t shown up (he finally did last night) at the hospital yet to see my grandma, but the rest of us have. So one of my aunts called him and chewed him out but none of us can tell my grandma what’s going on and it’s all so dramatic ooooooomggggggggg.
- I saw Lisa the Trainer on Tuesday as well. I’m only seeing her once this week because it was shaping up to be a crazy week and now it’s not so much that way. We did some stuff, nothing out of control. I feel like I’m not getting anywhere productive from training, but I know most of that is my fault. Since the sun only came out today for the first time in like, a friggin’ month, all I’ve wanted to do is eat and sleep and not go and move. If it was normal Connecticut summer, I’d be sweating my ass off and the last thing I would want to do it eat too much. I’m hoping to get out of this funk soon.
- Speaking of losing weight – I got my bridesmaid dress this weekend. It’s way way WAY too big. SURPRISE! I can grab a handful of the dress in the back and twist it and the dress is still too big. It needs to be taken in a lot all over. it’s kind of insane how much it needs to be taken in. When my mom saw me in the dress, she asked how I was going to hold it up on top. Well gee Mom, I don’t know. I was hoping super glue or tape or something. Lordy.
- Sunday was this annual street festival for a small town not far from my house. Since W is a volunteer firefighter for said small town, I always go because it’s fun to see him be all big firefighter man. FOR ONCE, there was a very very cute firefighter that W knows. His name is Andy and he’s got a girlfriend that he doesn’t like. That’s all I know. Liking boys with girlfriends is as useful as liking boys that don’t even know you exist. So I told W to get me some more dirt (more for my personal amusement than anything else). I know this will amount to nothing but hey, at least I have something to distract me.
- I found out that my dad got one of these this weekend:
- It’s the same color but with black racing stripes and it’s insane and NO, I have no idea what his issue is there. Everyone else is suffering and my dad goes and buys a brand new car? Nothing makes sense at my house. But it’s totally sexy and when we drive it, people stop and look at it. It’s fun. Now I REALLY need to learn how to drive stick so I can drive that. I would totally get boys if I was driving that thing.
- Work has been crazy. I’ve been shoving so much work into my day that I don’t know how I get home and continue to think straight. But I do. There’s totally not enough time for the things that I’m expected to do during the day (and that’s not counting the time that I’m taking to blog right now) and it’s hard. I’ve been cleaning up other people’s messes, I’ve been working my tail off and really, I just can’t wait for my half day next Friday.
- Next Saturday is the graduation party for J and W. W’s graduation is tonight and J’s is on the 30th. We have invited about 120 people to the party, so god only knows what the final number will be. This doesn’t include the people that we just invited in passing, such as A or some of my friends from work. I know, it’s not my party to invite people too, but there are going to be kegs and DAMN IT, that beer should be drank. By someone. Probably not me. Wait, that’s a lie. Totally by me.
- Saturday was a big disaster – and it’s because of the wedding of doom. Heather decided she wants to make jam to give out as favors at the wedding. She’s making blueberry and strawberry jam but has no idea how to do so. My mom and my grandma and I agreed to help her. We got all the jars and everything and we just had to wait for the fruit. Well, it’s strawberry picking season here. My mom called Heather on Saturday to tell her that we would be going to pick if she could go today and to meet us somewhere in the afternoon. I was at a birthday party for a 5 year old on Saturday afternoon, which I had to leave to meet my mom and Heather. Heather asks to meet us later in the afternoon at the place. We agree. I give her the address of the berry picking place. She says that she has her GPS and she will be there within 10-15 minutes. My mom and I start picking strawberries. And overall, we pick about 20 pounds of strawberries, which is just craziness. We call Heather. We’re done picking and she’s nowhere to be seen. And why might that be? Oh, because she went to the wrong berry picking place. I gave her the address of the one my mom and I were standing at and she went to a different place. I start screaming in the strawberry patch. My mom and I had such better ways to spend a Saturday afternoon that didn’t involve picking strawberries in the rain (or playing a game called “migrant farm workers) and Heather doesn’t even show up. I was so livid I couldn’t get words out. It gets worse. She finally calls me later on to ask if we have enough strawberries and what time we are meeting the next day to start making jam. She doesn’t apologize for not showing up, nor does she thank me for spending my afternoon doing something I didn’t really whole-heartedly want to do. Then my mom gives her a call and really lays into her about how she’s being irresponsible about things and that she needs to be where she says she is going to be…which turns into Heather crying about how no one wants to help her with the wedding and she’s doing everything herself and so on. From all this, I can pretty much say I hate weddings. I do. Everyone cries and gets all worked up and it’s so not worth it. I wish I could just not be involved…but I can’t. Oh, and we still have to make the blueberry jam. Oh joy of all joys in heaven, I can’t hardly wait. We also just got an email about the bridal shower and since I’m a cranky bitch today, I just want to let lose on the maid of honor and my mom is telling me I need to say things nicely. I really don’t want to.
- The sun needs to come out soon before I go crazy and just lose my mind. I went to Alfred and the lack of sun never bothered me as much as it does now. Maybe because I was never in Alfred over the summer, when it’s supposed to be sunny. It’s really so terrible that I just don’t want to get out of bed anymore.
- There are other things that have been really strange and frustrating in my life that I just don’t have the words for. I’m so blah because of this weather that I just…I am not acting normal or something. Sunshine, please come back.
- Lilo and I are going to look at a possible Cupcake Land this weekend. And I’m getting my hair cut! AND tomorrow night I am going out with my coworker Natalie and that should be super fun and exciting.
Alright – that’s about all I got for now. I would expect a fun post from me soon IF THE SUN EVER COMES BACK. It’s a giant burning thing, you would think that we would see it every once in a while BUT NO WE CAN’T WTF LIFE?
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First of all, totally unrelated to this post – I have an insane amount of work to do this week and an insane amount of things to do outside of work this week. Good thing it’s a short week. That’s very exciting.
Monday was the Memorial Day parade in my hometown. Imagine that! A parade! For Memorial Day! ON MEMORIAL DAY.
Whoa, just settle down now.
Anyway, aside from the veterans and the school marching band and some other weird things, all the kids on all the baseball and softball and swimming and gymnastic teams walk in the parade. Which is cute, but it’s also like every kid in town marching in the parade. The kids marching in the parade isn’t where my problem lies. My problem is with the parents that march in the parade with the kids. I would understand if your kid is 5 years old. Or if you’re the coach.
When your child is 8 years old and can’t figure out how to walk in a friggin’ parade – you should let someone take them. J is autistic and he could figure that out. If your kid wanders away from the parade route and gets stolen by a creepy man in a van – well, they should learn to listen, shouldn’t they? I’m not saying that it’s okay to steal a child, but if they can’t stay in the areas where everyone else is…there is no helping them. How does a child (not me) learn to not touch something hot? They touch something hot. So if you get stolen, wee little kid, you better learn the next time to stay where you’re told.
The instructions on a parade are “follow the person in front of you down the street.” Is that hard or complicated? No, it’s really not. FAIL CHILD.
I was really bothered by the 500 kids and 1,000 parents in the parade. It’s a good thing I only go to one parade a year otherwise I might go crazy. I’m not really even sure why I make myself go to the parade, other than my parents make a float every year for Special Olympics. And every year, the Special Olympics float is the nicest, compared to the half assed other floats in the parade. Of course, my dad was making the float late on Sunday night and early Monday morning. Floats should probably be made ahead of time. And by ahead of time, I mean before the day that you need them.
Anyway.
And this is just one of the many reasons I shouldn’t have kids – I want them to be people and they’re not. I’ve been realizing that over the weekend. I couldn’t handle a child. They need things. They want things. A baby cries when it’s hungry or needs to be changed or needs to be burped or it can’t fall asleep or you know, a million other reasons. I know I would shake the baby and go “WHAT DO YOU WANTTTTTTT?!” and we know that you shouldn’t shake babies. They aren’t cans of soda. You also shouldn’t shout at them, I don’t think. That’s another story for another day.
I want to treat children like little adults. I want them to be able to tell me what they need so that they can have it. But you know – children. Not adults. I also suggested that I should have a kid, give it to Pam to raise and then take it back. I’m not saying I want to have a kid now or maybe not even ever. But if I did? Oh you better believe Pam is going to raise it.
Sorry Pam, I should have told you sooner.
But basically, children really bother me with their unreasonable demands on your time and attention.
Which is what makes a child a child.
I don’t care. Don’t argue logic with me.
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