I am very, very, very tired. Weary. Worn. Pooped. Exhausted. Hold on while I thesaurus.com it.
Well, I don't have enough energy left for that, so I'll show you what I mean by how bad my fatigued parenting just got. (Do keep in mind it's already past bedtime. We left extra early today so we could have a parent conference -- the joys of a parent conference. The rooster is still up, still running wild. Many of you know how the earlier part of my week went...)
I am so tired that...
Rooster: I DON'T WANT TO BRUSH MY TEETH.
Me: Bribe, blah blah, bribe, blah blah
Rooster: NO! I don't like to BRUSH MY TEETH!
Me: Please, Roo...
(Rooster halfway swats at me, not trying to hurt or hit but to let me know he is angry.)
Rooster: AAAHHAH. I don't want to brush my teeth.
Me: You have to brush your teeth. (Pause. Sigh.) Or all your teeth will turn black and fall out.
(He looks at me in horror, all attention now, eyes wide. I look back, aghast at what I just said. And then I collapse in silent heaves. I am laughing, too tired to make any more sense than that; a wreck, convulsing on the floor, a laughing fool.)
Husband: Well. Geez, Honey. I guess you know what you're blogging about tonight!
(Husband and Rooster head to the bathroom to brush teeth flawlessly and without incident. I am a bad mother, and have gone somewhat crazy. Please someone insist I blog about the "Under Toad"'s debilitating impact on my life whenever I next have enough stamina to type words again. Goodnight. I'm too tired to even brush my teeth.)
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2 comments:
Hey, one of the kids at Joey's therapy office actually did have his teeth turn black. But they didn't fall out. THEY HAD TO BE PULLED OUT. Yik-a-roonies!!!
Hee hee! That was actually a stroke of brilliance. Desperate times and all that... but if it works to end the argument...I say go for it!
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