Thursday, October 28, 2010

Five Questions for My Children

Here are five questions I would like to ask my children.  Because I don't get it.  But it wouldn't matter if I did ask them about this stuff because all the same things would just happen anyway.

How is it that you don't understand how car doors work?
When it's time to get in the car, why do you grab the door handles and attempt to wrench them off the car 42 times per minute? Given the slowness with which you got ready to leave the house, how is it possible that you can yank on the door handle with the approximate rapidity of a hummingbird beating its wings? At least three times a day I drive you somewhere and we have the exact same conversation every single time and it always ends with me shrieking: "FOR THE LOVE OF PETE! WAIT FOR THE CLICK! DON'T TOUCH THE HANDLE TIL YOU HEAR THE CLICK! GAHHHHHHHHH!"

Also, when asked to close a car door - why is it that you're unable to use anything close to the approxiomate force required to actually close it.  Either it looks closed but isn't - causing me to have unlock it, re-close it and then re-lock it or risk finding a dead battery in the morning.  Or you slam it closed like there were snarling, rabid wolves on the other side about to leap on you and eat you for dinner. But there are no wolves. So I don't understand.


Whuck about your socks?
Why are there socks scattered across my floor? Why am I forever picking up filthy, sweaty kid socks? Are socks supposed to drift across the hardwood like tumbleweeds in your world?  How is it you can remember to put away shoes but not socks?  How do socks end up on the dining room table?  In my purse?  Under the front passenger seat in the van?  In the guest room closet?  Under the stove?  Why are they always turned halfway inside out? And out of curiosity - how do you get the bottom of all your socks to turn black, son?  Is it difficult? Is it because you break the Cardinal Rule of Socks ("Don't Go Outside in Socks and No Shoes") when I'm not looking?


Why do you have to act like mini-litigators all the time?
Why do you even try and argue about certain things?  Your father is a lawyer.  This family does not need any more of them.  My toddler says "NO" to every question you ask her.  Is this blue? NO. Is this the number 3? NO.  Did you go shopping with Daddy today? NO. And the big kids pick the oddest things to fight with me about.  It is not possible for the new Karate Kid to fight the old Karate Kid because the old Karate Kid is actually 49 years old. Then they yell at me because they don't believe that he is older than Daddy. They think I'm just making it up because no one is actually that old.

What is going on in there?
What do you do in the bathroom that takes so long? For the love of Maude, you were sent in there to brush your teeth and 23 minutes later you walk out with the Little Bear toothpaste telling me that you can't get the cap off. Have you been trying to get the cap off the toothpaste this whole time? Did a bipartisan dance troupe of elves trained by Randy Jackson sneak in and entertain you by clogging for 22 of these minutes? Did you watch an imaginary TV show in that time? Did you fall asleep while peeing?

Because here's my other question, you say that you went to the bathroom and yet I did not hear a flush... 

Seriously, what do you do with them?
We hate to beat a dead horse with this, but WHAT THE HELL HAPPENS TO YOUR UNDERPANTS? 
The boy's underpants disappear to the degree that we have had to add a "Size 6 Spiderman Underwear" line item to the family budget.  Meanwhile, my daughter's underpants seem to multiply in the wash (do they reproduce when they get wet - like Gremlins?) so that each load of laundry contains approximately 37 pairs of pink and purple My Little Pony drawers.

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2010

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