Sunday, June 21, 2009

You Talkin to Me Mister?! Happy Flugging snarkoffen Day!

Isn't she adorable! So cute! So cruel, er huh?
Ok parents... please tell me this is common. Please tell me that my beautiful little sweetheart of a five-year-old is just going through a "stage" as in "she won't scream at the top of her lungs NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO for an hour her whole life" stage.

Children are so darn cute and adorable... and then they learn to talk. Whose idea was this anyway? Emma, my little five-year-old, is having a major case of Drama Queen meets Godzilla which causes her to:

1. Not listen
2. Go absolutely insane when she gets in trouble for not listening
3. Go completely boneless when being picked up to be taken to her bed where she has Exorcist level contortion fits that both scare and entertain (bring popcorn!)

Look - I'm telling you I didn't even know vocal ranges like that existed until I put this child in bed for not behaving. So - the question is - will this stop at some point or do I have to call Madonna to come and adopt this child.

It starts out very innocently. So that you fellow parents can help me figure this out, I give you the following nearly verbatim recent example:

Von: Emma, go get your shoes on please. We are leaving.
Emma: Don't leave without me!!
Von: We are not leaving with out you but you need to get your shoes on. Please hurry up.
Emma: (who is now laying flat on her back on the floor flailing as though she is fighting off some unforeseen demon) I CAN'T FIND MY OTHER SHOE!!!!
Von: Calm down - it's right beside you!

Now: Here is where it gets really bizarre so follow closely (I don't know, ready slower here eh?). The offending shoe is, indeed, right beside my daughters actual foot which is, as of that moment, still attached to her actual body. She looks at the shoe - looks AT the shoe - and amazingly says: Where?

Did you know, ladies and gentlemen, that under the proper circumstances (see the last paragraph please) that the face of a Mom can actually explode without causing her own demise? At this point Von's face turns the color of red usually associated with fire hydrants and horror films. I am, at this moment, the calmer of the two, so I do what I know is best in such a heated situation: I take three paces backward to avoid being injured.

Von: Emma - are you trying to tell me (insert sound of gritted teeth here please) that you don't see that shoe sitting right next to your foot?
Emma: (Who is now playing with the shoe that only her parents can see): No

Remember that verse in the Bible, something like "spare not the dismembering of your children, lest the live longer than you"? (Hey - I didn't say I had it memorized). We now reach the point where the following, inevitable, things occur.

1. My ten-year-old son, who stays out of trouble 99.9% of the time, says to his sister: "You are being ridiculous!" The most untimely 100% accurate comment of all time.
2. The five-year-old, using the non-existent shoe as a weapon, attacks him.
3. Von gives me "the look" - you know guys, the one that says "you did this to me!" and "do something before I kill all of you" at the same time - and I realize I must spring into action.

Let it be known that I have a college education. I am a military veteran. I have survived multiple, severe lacerations including the loss of small body parts, many stitches, compound fractures, and some completely bizarre injuries that would make the reader blush. None of these facts help in dealing with a demon possessed child in the least. In fact, I don't sound like a college educated military veteran who can handle whatever comes my way. Instead of actually speaking, the following statement comes out of my face as I grab the child and, very literally, peal her off of her brother.

"Flugging snarkoffen dingle brats!" I yell. There are actual words in there, but they just won't come out as I carry the now boneless and screaming child up to "the bed."

Here is an interesting fact. Did you know that "the bed" has two distinct features and not just one? Have children, and you will find that "the bed" is:

a. Used for sleeping, pleasant dreams, and sound rest.
b. Used to torture small children

This is a fate so horrible, so unbelievably painful that the child must resort to yelling for help. Evidentally, anyone that might come to her rescue is a minimum of 10.5 miles from our home, thus requiring EXTREMELY LOUD PLEAS for asstance. We have two basset hounds. They actually sit at the front door with suitcases when she starts screaming. Yes - it is that type of pitch.

This goes on for quite a while until, finally, she falls fast asleep. This is the time I usually go upstairs and find that, once again, my real child has returned. Minus the tussled hair and the redness under her eyes, she almost looks like a little angel. And by the way - she has both shoes on.

Someday I'll look back on this and laugh.... so why not today?


Andrea said...

OMGosh!!!! I love it!! Well, I feel bad for you, because I can see my own sweet daughter doing this in just a few short years!!! Little girls are sugar & spice, but not always nice!! Ya gotta love them though...when they are asleep!!! Here is hoping she is that sweet angel for her daddy on Father's Day!!!

Wanita said...

Never had this problem with DD but youngest DS went through this stage...and sometimes still does...he's Someday you will look back and laugh...just count to 10 until that happens ;)

Sandra said... your storytelling and the picture of Von's fuming red face. LOL!!

I think I remember my son and daughter doing these sorts of things - but the memory is I guess it does get better. If I think back really hard I think it was because of extreme tiredeness or hunger. Then again...I think the kids wore rubber boots till they were 10 because they were easy to put on. hahahahaha.

nomorelittlemonkeys said...

Frank, your writing is hilarious!!! You really ought to publish this story somewhere!! Too funny! I can't believe that little Emma is so evil! My son Anton can be a first class brat, but he knows I'll actually leave without him!


Joyce said...

I am doubled over in pain from laughing!!!

I can just see the basset hounds sitting by the door with their suitcases!

Flugging snarkoffen dingle brats!!!!!!!!!hahahahhaha

Ok have got to be laughing about this by now!!

AScrappersDelight said...

Just wait until she's 9. I wish I could tell you it gets better but that would be a lie. Good Luck!!

(and I am totally ROFL about your misery...sorry but I can totally relate)

petunia670 said...

Seriously, I'm peeing myself laughing at this post. Your story telling is hilarious, sorry it's actually a true story! Good luck dealing with you angel.

fromtheowlsnest said...

yes, those angels hide their wings and halos on occasion....LOL..I know at times, if there is an object that I want my child to pick up, put away or bring to me, I will point to it(a mere inch away from the object) and still mine will be saying "where?" ..drives me crazy so I can totally relate. Love your writing style...kept me laughing the whole story...can't wait to check back and see more.