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?
Would you like to go for a walk or play cars?
Do you want Mommy to lose her ever loving mind or drink a bottle of wine?
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.
Just get me past this without killing someone and we’ll all be good. Please pass the wine.