My daughter doesn’t curse at the wee age of not even 3, but she doesn’t have to. She tells me to f*@k off in other ways. Why use the words, when you can get across the same sentiment?
I really *love* this new one of hers. I’m not sure what kid she got it from, but I’d like to smack him or her! Whenever myself or her father does something that my sweet little lady does not like, she raspberries in our face—you know, blowing her lips together like sugared-up little boy? Except for she does it with an evil look on her face as if she hopes we will burn with her bitchy glare.
Her latest addition to the Raspberry? Getting up close as she does it so you get some spit on your face.
Third world sweatshops were meant for kids doing such antics!
Play Annoying Child Toy
When we tell her to go to bed, some nights she has decided that she knows better than us. So once we walk away, she gets up and presses her Cinderella clock.
Over. And Over. And over again.
Prince Charming and Cinderella dance to music repeatedly, as if they are on cocaine. Her clock “shouts” stories, so we get to hear how Cinderella is getting it on or how Sleeping Beauty stained her wedding dress all night long.
I’m ready to shoot the clock.
And the “party” doesn’t end until my kid is asleep in the middle of her doorway, face flat to the ground like a drunken fratboy.
I’m Telling You. Woman.
The best way my toddler tells me to go f$*k myself, is when she simply tells me after I inform her of what’s about to happen, that I am wrong, and instead she says, “No, this is what I am going to do.”
About everything. She might as well slice off my metaphorical penis.
I told her the other day that I am the queen and she is the princess as we played tea party. She told me relentlessly how that was just false.
“No, I’m the Queen Mommy.”
I might as well have licked her shoes.
When she has decided that things are not going as she had planned, she throws shit. Dolls, forks, bows, toys, phones. You name it. She runs like a girl, but she’s got a wicked left and right arm.
She might as well force me up against the wall and bring her bow and arrow.
Despite all of this, my kid is pretty damn wonderful, even if she tells me to go screw now and again.
At least she’s not doing it at school. We need a good public representative. Besides, I don’t want any of this bossy nonsense to ruin her shot later on as President.