I love my kids—freaking adore them! I really do. Most of
the time they are sweet little turtle doves that make me laugh and smile and
outstretch my arms to embrace them.
But sometimes, they are a-holes who refuse
to eat the broccoli tater tots I found on Pinterest and spent two hours making, lose their shit for no good reason in the middle of a very quiet library, or sneak into my bed night in the middle of the night and repeatedly kick my nose bridge in
Are they trying to wear
me down or piss me off? Probably not. But sometimes that is just the result.
Being annoyed, frustrated and pushed to the edge of sanity occasionally comes
with the parenting territory. Even though this happens, you would never think
of getting back at your kids for all the headaches. Unless it's in secret. Here
are 8 ways I secretly get back at my kids.
1. I order bacon and pretend it's Peppa Pig.
And don't think I don't also add something like, "Hi, I'm
Peppa. This is my little brother George. Oh shit, here is the pig farmer
Rick who comes to take me to the slaughterhouse. OINK!" Goodbye, Peppa (said in
that serious narrator's British voice). Now can someone please pass the hot
2. I post a cringeworthy pic on Instagram and tag
My son is 13, so Instagram and Snapchat (and maybe Axe body
spray) are basically all that matters to him in his life right now. So when he
decides to "forget" to do his homework or miss his curfew two evenings in a
row, I feel inspired to post and tag him in a photo that he probably wouldn't
be thrilled to see. It's nothing too embarrassing or humiliating by any means. Just
maybe a pic of him when he was going through his super cringeworthy "unintentional" Blue Steel-resting-face phase. Oh I
tagged you? I didn't even realize I'd done that. Oops. My bad.
"Dora, Dora, Dora gets run over ... by an angry mom in a Land Rover."
3. I eat their favorite chocolate 10 feet away from
them shielded by my fridge door.
Nothing tastes as good as revenge in the form of the delicious,
caramel-filled chocolate, the kind your kids beg you relentlessly for every
time you make a supermarket run—every effing time and in the whiniest, most grating
voices. When I have been driven to that exhausted, annoyed and borderline dark
parenting place, sinking my teeth into and then savoring every bite of that
glorious chocolate while they have no idea I'm doing it strangely gives me a weird
high and a second parenting wind.
4. I give their stupid favorite stuffed animal the
They are so precious about their favorite stuffed animal,
which they insist on taking everywhere and dragging through everything. It's filthy
and raggedy looking and they're getting too old to be carrying that around
anyway. Forgetting Bailey the stuffed dog leads to a melt down of such
magnitude that it becomes your pleasure to drive the 45 minutes back home to
get it. So when my 3-year-old daughter finally passes out at night after 18
stories, three drinks of water, two potty breaks and near mother/daughter mano y mano
combat, I drag myself out of her room. But not without giving Bailey the big,
aggressive middle finger. It's so immature. But so satisfying.
5. I push the elevator button quickly before they
have a chance and then say, "Oh sorry, I wasn't thinking."
Aside from toy unboxing YouTube videos and chocolate, my
3-year old's greatest joy in life is pushing the elevator call button. Every one
of us in the family is conditioned to stand and wait patiently near the
elevator, any elevator, while my daughter jumps up and stabs at the buttons.
It's gotten to the point where she's the official boss of the elevator, and none
of us dare usurp her power for fear of facing death by tantrum. But every once
in a while, when my daughter's been a little tyrant, and I have just had enough
for the day, I'll "absent-mindedly" push the button. Sure, tears may ensue, but
inside I'm like "take that, tyrannical elevator boss."
6. I make up inappropriate words to their favorite
kid show theme songs.
"Dora, Dora, Dora gets run over ... by an angry mom in a
Land Rover." I also love that Doc McStuffin's after dark version: "Time for your
vodka. Time for your vodka." Of course, I never sing my versions in front of the
kids. I'm not that twisted.
7. I drink
wine out of my daughter's tea set tea cup.
You may say that's inappropriate. I say it's responsible
drinking. One play teacup holds only about 1/8 the amount of a wine glass. And
I've taken so many pretend sips of imaginary tea out of that damn cup, is it a
crime to want to stop pretending and just drink something real and delicious?
8. I show up at my 13-year old's school unannounced
to pick him up while wearing a One Direction T-shirt.
Next time you'll ask me before you rack up $65 on my iTunes
account without asking.