5 Signs the World is Ending, according to my Toddler

Nothing is worse than a toddler having a temper tantrum. Sure, you can argue that losing money, getting an STD, getting red wine all over a white blouse, or running a marathon in six inches heels might be worse, but a toddler meltdown is akin to what I imagine the second coming of Christ looks like to a holy roller.

#1 First Sign that the world is coming to an end…

Super Why’s Dog, “Woofster” will not be appearing on the episode.

Woofster is the single most retarded name I can think of to name a cartoon dog. It certainly isn’t memorable, and worse, his voice is irritating, but she loves the show and I think it’s cute…mostly, so we watch the show.

“Where’s Super Why’s doggie? Where is he?No!!!!”

My toddler crumples in her little seat in a dramatic gesture similar to ones made by Italian Grandmothers at funerals. I want to curse PBS and my DVR for giving me an episode without Wyatt’s famed new dog. I want to stamp my feet and scream because I just want to take a shower for a minute, possibly even shave my you-know-what’s, while she bathes in Boob Tube bliss. The absence of Woofster has made it so my shower is pierced with complaints.

#2 Second Sign the World is Ending: Her mother tells her what to do.

Doodlebug, take off your shoes please.

Mommy, take off my sweater. No sweater.

Okay, just take your shoes off first please.

No Mommy!

She flings herself into the cross position, and wails. She kicks her legs when I remind her that she knows how to take off her shoes, and cries even harder. She begins to hack slightly as if she might throw-up, trying to show me how serious she is about her feelings.

Suddenly, my adorable child turns red and speaks tongues close to the Hebrew language. I see the signs of stigmata. I wonder why I didn’t just shut my uterus down for business in the first place. I hide in the bathroom praying she won’t remind me of my sins.

She cries for what feels like forever, and then finally gives up. I take off her sweater.

#3 Signs the World is Ending, number 3:

No Cantaloupe

My daughter could eat about 4 whole cantaloupes a week, maybe more. I fear she will turn into a large round orange boulder of a girl, and she will have to wear colorful stickers to the prom, instead of a dress.

When the cantaloupe runs out, you better leave town or prepare yourself to listen to her lament and shriek.

“Cantaloupe Mommy! Cantaloupe!”

“But I don’t have anymore.”

“Daddy buy more Cantaloupe Mommy!”

This goes on until finally, she cries and repeatedly asks me for cantaloupe. My ears start to bleed, and I wish I had joined the circus instead of had a child.  I wish that all the cantaloupe would magically disappear, so then she could just fixate on another fruit instead.

#4 Fourth Sign that the End is Near:

Charlie Brown’s Mayflower Episode is gone

I have no idea how many ways she has asked me–maybe thirty different times?– but my daughter keeps asking me to show her the Charlie Brown Mayflower episode. I cannot stand it. It is boring as hell. I’m not watching it again, at least not until next Thanksgiving. I keep telling her the Mayflower has set sail…she keeps asking anyway, and searching through the DVD’s for the disc.

I am an evil mommy.

#5 Final Sign that the Second Coming is Near:

Can’t find her Tinkerbell Washcloth

“I want the Tinkerbell towel Mommy.”

“Okay, we will find it. Do you really need it now while you eat?”

Screams for this stupid little Tinkerbell rag ensue. I tell her TInkerbell doesn’t want to get dirty. Tinkerbell wants to stay in the bathroom where she belongs. I petition for Tinkerbell’s right to stay food-encrusted free.

What the hell is wrong with me?, I think. It’s a damn towel. Tinkerbell isn’t a real person.She doesn’t think. She doesn’t exist, minus in drawings and television/movies. Why is my daughter turning shades of fucshia over a silly washcloth? Will she throw up this time? (No)

She is a good girl, my little bug, but sometimes I feel I am living with a Neanderthal. I suspect one day she will be clobbering me over the head with a wooden club, and asking me to go hunt for some food. It’s part of toddlerhood, and a totally understandable phase, but sometimes when she starts to develop horns and speaks in an evil tongue, I wonder if she isn’t possessed somewhat.

But then I feel better, because I know she didn’t inherit that from me. She most likely inherited that from my mother-in-law. I’m only responsible for the bossiness.

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