My children are bilingual. Not in the sense that they speak Japanese or Greek or Hebrew. That would actually fall under the category of ‘useful’. No, these people are gifted as their second language is completely devoid of any oral utterances–unless you count ‘the huff’.
If you’re already a parent of a speaking child, you know ‘the huff’ (unless your child is ‘perfect’ and would never do such a thing…you lie like a dead dog, but you gotta go with what gets you through the day).
‘The huff’ may be defined as, but is not limited to, the following:
* Parents, or any adult for that matter, are totally out of touch with my reality and how hard it is to be as awesome as me.
* Your rules are cramping my style and stunting my blossoming into the adult I hope to become.
* OMG, you have the nerve to speak to me!
* What? I have to work for pay? Who thought up this crap?
* You suck!
‘The huff’ may also, scratch that, is almost always accompanied by the full eyeball roll; the half eyeball roll (which is what they do when you catch them in the process of performing the full eyeball roll and they act like they just have something stuck in their eye—nice try, but totally ineffective) and, my personal favorite, the foot stomp. His Awesomeness has the foot stomp down to an art…picture someone in dire need of having to use the facilities; they’re on a mission with their entire body thrust forward and stomp-stomp-stomping toward the bathroom. I wish I had footage, it’s that good.
If you’re thinking about having kids…stop. Go adopt a dog. They’ll love you forever and can’t talk back. Sure, they may do that head-tilt thing and look at you as if to say ‘You are a total douchebag, but I find you amusing and love you anyway’. If you’re expecting or are already parenting a child who’s not yet begun to speak, let me impart this nugget of wisdom. DON’T ENCOURAGE DIALOGUE! What was cute baby-babble will inevitably morph into verbiage that results in parental head banging (not to be confused with the heavy metal music variety) and a general desire to bite the head off a sixteen-penny nail.
Today, I am reminded of a line from the movie “True Lies”, uttered by the philosophical character played by Tom Arnold who said:
‘Kids: 30 seconds of joy; 18 years of misery’.
I can only hope The Co-Defendants have children of their own who are just like them, cute and cuddly like those fuzzy little creatures from the movie Gremlins…at least until they get wet. Isn’t that every parent’s wish? No? Well, aim higher!
Ever heard the term ‘filial cannibalism’? Fascinating subject as I’ve been Googling it obsessively this afternoon. Scientists theorize that some animals eat their young to boost their own energy reserves during times when food is scarce. Horse hockey (that’s Texan for ‘bullshit’)! They do it because their darlings got a little uppity and it was off with their heads time. Perhaps there are lessons to be learned from porcine and arachnid friends.
No, they aren’t all bad, all the time. Somewhere in there are my sweethearts, the ones who lovingly and without sarcasm call me Ma and pucker up for nighttime kisses. Nowadays, school staff and other parents and even the occasional stranger, will say something utterly complimentary about The Co-Defendants. I just stand there, stunned mute for a moment ’cause where’s the love when I get ’em home, then just offer my thanks and wonder who the hell they were really talking about. I’m betting those are the same people who claim they’ve been abducted by aliens.
I know that in time, be it a few hours or more likely when birthdays and Christmas roll around, they’ll once again be the sweet charming darlings they were when they still wet themselves and were toothless. Right now, they’re just being little shits and I am equal parts hurt and pissed. Even the dog knows to keep a low profile judging by her understated whimpers and brown eyes which seem to say ‘Perhaps a pill and stiff drink are in order’. Such a smart animal. Himself has already suggested I leave the house for a bit. Is a week too long?
Scarlett O’Hara said ‘Tomorrow is another day’ but I don’t know that I can trust a woman who yanked down curtains and wore them as a fashion statement. Seems a little hinky to me. At any rate, I know I have to pick my battles and roll with it. Tomorrow may find me embarrassed over my ranting and sniveling. I doubt it, but there’s always hope.