I admit it. I think that some days, my kid is an asshole.
There, I said it.
But honestly people, we are in the “No” phase. A phase that I would like to pass as QUICKLY as humanly possible because if I hear that word come of that adorable little mouth one more time? Mama is going to open a can of whoopass.
I read all of the crap from BabyCenter and The Bump and trust me, we give him options…
******
Do you want the blue toothbrush or the green?
No
Would you like to go for a walk or play cars?
No
Do you want Mommy to lose her ever loving mind or drink a bottle of wine?
No.
Yeah well, you lose on the last one kiddo…
Oh my lord people, how can such a small word come hurtling out of that little mouth with such force? How can it carry such weight? How can it reduce a grown man and woman into snarling raging monsters?
Being a parent is a study in patience. A study in self control and the ability to not lock him in his room until he’s 21 years old and stops saying that ever loving WOOOORD.
But it’s a stage… right?… RIGHT? I know that this too shall pass and I’ll look fondly back on the days when the little hell-beast said NO to every freaking thing I said and I’ll laugh about how funny and cute it was and how I miss my toddler.
Bullshit.
Just get me past this without killing someone and we’ll all be good. Please pass the wine.
