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October /
November 2006 Contest Results |
The Truth
About Toddlers
By Lisa Scott,
New York
I can't believe
its taken me this long to figure out: the kids are conspiring to drive
me crazy. Not certifiable, just unhinged. I suspect they've been
convening at midnight for strategizing sessions to plot my demise. I can
only imagine they unfold a little something like this.
Jack peeks in my room, sees the drool pooling on my pillow and creeps
into Riley's room. "Hey sis, wake up!"
"How are you
dear brother?"
"I'm fine, but
concerned. I know behind closed doors, we truly love and cherish each
other, but we really need to step it up a notch during the day. We are
not fighting enough! We have to remember our three-prong approach: fight,
frustrate and foil. My graph here clearly shows that when we argue over
a toy or food product, Mom and Dad drop their 'What a good listener' act
and blow a gasket, five times out of 10. We need to increase our
effectiveness and get those numbers up."
"But I told you
to shut up nine times today! And I said I hate you," protests Riley. "I
gave you my “mommy kitty” to play with and then immediately screamed for
it back. Didn't you see mommy turn purple?"
"I know," says
Jack, "but we need more mindless fighting. That really puts Mom over the
edge. And don't forget to throw in a bite or two and lots of slapping!"
"Alright. Do I have to keep talking like a baby and pretending I'm a
cat?"
"Yes. And keep
refusing to wear barrettes and bows. And by the way, I spotted you ogling
her necklace the other day. Watch it. Your refusal to be a girly-girl
really gets her going."
"But she says
she loves my independent spirit."
"Yeah, well
sometimes her eye twitches when she says it. Oh -- excellent work with
the outerwear fight. The leopard print coat with the purple striped hat
and yellow SpongeBob garden gloves you insisted on wearing sent her over
the edge."
"Yeah, and then
I took it all off in the car!" Riley beams.
"We should call
you Wiley, not Riley!"
"Well, Jack if
we're going to dissect our performances, I think you could 'lose' a few
more things. So far it’s only been 'meow-meow,' your tae kwon do uniform
and your teacher’s Christmas present."
"Yeah, but I
lost that the day she was going to give it to her. I get extra points
for that!"
"True, now what
about baths. Do we like them this month?"
"Hmmm, yes. And
we want to take them at odd times during the day, and we don't want to
get out. Next month, we won't like them. Oh, and good work with the
potty training. You had them all excited like you were ready to start
and then lost all interest!"
"Hey Jack, I
love mommy and daddy. Why are we doing this to them again?"
"Aghhh, it was
all in the manual. At the hospital? Remember? When we were first born?
It's for their own good. If we didn't provide them with a new challenge
at each stage, they'd always be lonely for the baby we once were. They
love us soooo much that we have to wear them out a bit over the years.
We're really going to lay it on thick when we're teenagers so they'll be
somewhat relieved when we finally leave. Sure they'll be sad, but a
little part of them will just be so eager to rest, that our final
departure won't be so sorrowful.
"Truly, they need us to do this. They
might not ever let us go if we didn't cause them some trouble. And don't
forget, we can still give them lots of hugs and kisses to remind them
how cute and sweet we are. That'll keep them in the game. You know, like
when you crinkle your nose and squint your eyes to make yourself look
extra cute when you're trying to get your way? Mommy knows you're
manipulating her, but she really thinks it's sweet and funny. But, we
need to keep up a 2:1 ratio of fights and frustrations to the cute
stuff."
"Ohhhh. It's
like, our job."
"Exactly. Now
I'm going back to bed, you start crying for kitty juice. Mommy still
doesn't know what that is -- brilliant one, Riley! Trust me some day
she'd give anything for just one day of "he-grabbed-my-cookie-leave-me-alone-mommy-she's-touching-my-trains!-I-don't-want-chicken-I'm-not-taking-a-nap"
fun.
http://readlisascott.com
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