V, the asshole toddler is a
fibber.
She's a tad bit of a white liar...
but if you minus the tad bit and white and you have a little fibbing a-hole
with cute rosy cheeks and a disposition to be really cute sometimes.
I've never really cared what
people have thought of me, either you like me, or you don't (ha. I
should keep telling myself that lie)...Okay so I DO care, I just try
not to show that I do.
Then, my daughter turned five
and suddenly I have become a little self-conscious. I'm not perfect, I've never
claimed to be perfect and I never will be. In fact I mess up more times than
one single human being is allocated in their lifetime.
Along with her turning 5 and
suddenly becoming this pint-sized adult, she took on this uncanny ability for
fantastic story telling. And this has me 100% convinced that I will win
the "bad Mom" of the year award. So I know you're probably thinking I
am being dramatic because she's a kid, right? Stop judging me.
It's not cute. I'm not being dramatic.
Dudes...dudettes. Some of her
stories are downright unnerving. If I had a R10 note for every time she
has opened her cute little yapping mouth and spewed some bullshit
while I felt that iron-grip fear take hold of my heart...when the voice in
my head screamed "omg, omg, omg - they think I'm a bad
Mom"...then I would be rich. But I would also be dead having left
this earth from anxiety that finally took over.
Fib Number 1... I don't feed her.
A few weeks ago I took V to Spur. I love Spur. It's disgusting and probably roaming with bacteria but their buffalo wings are the shit and V plays in their play area for hours leaving me to catch up on sleep in their weirdly comfortable booths (just kidding...) Sort of.
But no, really; Spur is great. But this day was one
of those "my kid is an asshole" days. I remember this day so
well because it was also the day my child announced in front of 50 people
that I am a bad Mom. It was sweltering. But it was an unbearable heat. I was
sitting outside and if there's one thing that annoys me it's heat. I can't
handle it. I feel like everything is falling apart and my brain is melting
and what's worse is that if you're a girl (and reading this) unless
you spray paint your make up on it always melts off your face in heat.
V also gets affected by heat like I do. She was particularly pissed off on
this specific day and Spur was hella busy. She came storming up to the table
looking mildly murderous and loudly shouted "where's my
juice. I want my juice". Rude. That's what I thought, but I was
too hot to care so I thrust her juice in her hand. She didn't say thank
you. Rude. I was watching her drink her juice. She was staring at
me. She didn't take her eyes off me the entire time and I was quite
curious as to what made this little kid so annoyed - there was a little
vein in her forehead and I thought to myself "oh cute, a little 5
year old vein".
Then after a couple loud gulps of her juice
which was adding to my mounting irritation, she suddenly burst into tears.
I shat myself. I got up and asked her what was wrong, I thought maybe that
angry little vein I'd spotted earlier had popped in her head. She gasped
for air, sucked in as much as she could and shouted "I'm hungry,
I want my food, you NEVER FEED ME". I don't know why she said
that. But it wouldn't matter if I did because I had the
entire restaurant giving me filthy looks - what made it worse
was the waitress who took pity on my kid and came and gave her some sweets. I
was so embarrassed I didn't know what to do. Or say. So I bent down
and whispered in her ear..."why would you saaaay that V?? I do feed
you. That was ugly" . Upon hearing my whispers, she
shouts again. "I am NOT ugly. I am hungry. You don't feed
me". The food came - she calmed down. She ate two fucking
slices of pizza before she ran off to the play area again. I paid the bill and
went home. Thanks V.
By the way. I do feed her.
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