I know you're not supposed to say this, but I just can't stand my kid today.
I've been pulling some serious revisionist history and fantasizing about how awesome my single life was.
The fact is, I couldn't really stand him yesterday, either. Nick went out of town for work and I was all, fuck, now I'm alone with the kid.
Because everything? Everything is terrible.
UP! MAMAMAAAA I. WANT. UP!
NOOOOO! UP IS TERRIBLE! WAAAAAAAAAH! DOWN! I WANT DOWN!
WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAA YOU ASSHOLE! DOWN IS TERRIBLE! IN FACT, DOWN IS WOOOOOOOORRSSSEE THAN TERRIBLE! WAAAAAAAHHHHH!
I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WAAAAAANNNNTTTT AND YOU'RE NOT DOING IT!
Being awake is terrible.
Napping is terrible.
The only things he wants to do are things he's not allowed to do. And this enrages him.
I suck because I'm not allowing him to actually eat the corner of the board book that he manages to chew off.
I suck because I closed the bathroom door, when the toiled could be an endless source of delight, if only I weren't so mean.
But I am. I'm so mean.
I suck because I won't let him pull on that one fucking plug in the middle of the fucking wall that was the only fucking place that Nick could plug in the fucking speaker.
AAAAHHHHH! THAT PLUG! IS ALL I WANT IN THE WORLD! AND YOU'VE TAKEN THAT AWAY!
Yes, yes I have.
The high chair? Might as well be a guillotine.
AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH NOOOOOOO NOT THE HIGH CHAIR!
WAIT! NOOOO! DON'T PUT ME DOWN FROM THE HIGH CHAIR! WAAAAAAAH! DON'T YOU LOVE ME?
And I am all, listen, little pal. If I didn't love you this much, or have this much self-restraint, you think we'd still be here, doing the Asshole Dance together?