So Jordan has been kind of a whiny little bitch lately.
I mean, yes, I adore him and the air he breathes and of course I consider it an honor to call him my son and to wipe the poop off his bottom.
But he's still been behaving like a whiny little bitch.
In fairness, he's had a cold, so he's not feeling 100 percent. But cripes, the WHIIIIINING started weeks ago, and so I know it's not totally cold-related.
And it makes my blood pressure go through the roof while simultaneously causing my head to melt.
I pick him up from day care and he's all excited to see me and we have a nice little walk home and we chat about his day and then he just hits this point where he starts to WHINE. It's the whining. The whining fucking kills me.
Honestly. I'm walking along all normal-headed and then the whining starts and what used to be my head is now like 300 degrees and oozing down my body. There's steam rising from my neck hole.
So last night there was the WHINE SOB! "Fiiiiix it!" from the living room as I was cooking. Because the backhoe, which is too small to pick up the car, couldn't pick up the car.
I've explained this 54 million times. The backhoe is too small. The car is too big. It can't pick it up. It's just not big enough.
And still, he insists. "Pick it up! You do it!" And he whiiiines.
And there was the WHINE because I NEED GOLDFISH! I NEEEEEEEEED GOLDFISH!
While I contemplated saying no, that he could have goldfish after dinner, I weighed it against the quiet I might have while he worked his way through goldfish and I got dinner ready.
I gave him the damn goldfish.
No, I'm not proud. Just...tired.
And I couldn't ask my mom to step in because Jordan had been a huge dick to her for a couple days. Seriously. He was hurting her feelings.
She would ask him something and he'd say, "Don't talk, Nana!"
We'd make him apologize, and tell him we don't talk to people like that. And then he'd do it again.
We were finally having some dinner with a mere modicum of WHINING when he knocked over his milk.
It was an accident, completely inadvertent.
As was my reaction. Which was: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRERAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!"
I yelled. Very loudly. It was maybe more like a roar. I can't exactly recall. It was just this extremely loud sound that came out of my mouth. And made me feel a whole lot better.
Jordan just sat there, eyes wide, with a "holy shit" look in his face.
And then I mopped up the milk. I said, "I know it was an accident. You didn't mean to spill the milk."
He reached up his arms for a hug, and I hugged him, and then he ate some more dinner.