Friday, November 30, 2012

The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

The Good:

Maggie now has three awards from her teacher for "doing a great job at clean up time." She's taking her OCD public and reaping the rewards. Huzzah!

The Bad:

Yesterday, she asked me all conversationally-like, "Bathrooms are the appropriate place for fawting, isn't that right?"

Me: Fawting? What do you mean by that? Farting?

Maggie: No, fawting. It's a word that means tooting. That's for bathrooms, right?

Me: FAWTING? I think you mean farting. It's pronounced faRRRRRting. And yes, I guess a polite person does that in the bathroom, if they can.

Maggie: No, it's pronounced fawting. All the kids in my class say fawting.

I just want to make it clear that I'm MUCH more upset that my kid is cultivating a Boston accent from her kindergarten classmates than that she starts conversations with me about flatulence.

The Ugly:

Kate decided to throw a huge tantrum this morning about the clothes I picked out for her after she was already dressed and we were practically walking out the door to take Maggie to school. With no time left for shenanigans like this, I told her she could change into anything she wanted after we got home. We both totally forgot about it until approximately 15 minutes before we needed to leave to go pick Maggie up from school, when Kate remembered and started having a total nervous breakdown. She ran upstairs, stripped down to her underpants and one sock, and then like a chihuahua having a panic attack, peed all over the floor and rug in front of her dresser. WTF. After a frantic bath and clean up job, she picked out a new outfit that calmed the frankenstorm in her 3-year old brain, and we rushed out the door to school.

The real kicker of this story is that the outfit I dressed her in consisted of a solid purple shirt and a pair of polka dot pants; the outfit Kate preferred consisted of a purple polka dot shirt and a pair of solid purple pants.

I just really don't see how their teenage years could possibly be any worse than this preschool age. Parents of teenagers must just forget about the days when you had to listen to their crap AND clean it up after them as well.


  1. I *love* the Boston accent. Why wouldn't you want Maggie to end up as a true Medfid girl?

  2. Ha-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaaaa.........! Love, Mom


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