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8 Ways I Secretly Get Back at My Kids

Photograph by Andrea Wada Davies

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 their sleep.

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 sauce?

RELATED: 6 Times My Toddler Put Me on Blast

2. I post a cringeworthy pic on Instagram and tag my son.

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 bird.

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.

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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.

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