Losing It

Someone please explain to me what it is inside kids' minds that makes them think that it's OK to blame their mother for losing their belongings? Today, I'm at the doctor's office with my daughter and my cell phone rings. It's my son, practically screaming in the phone: "MOM! I CAN'T FIND MY CAR KEYS! I'VE LOOKED EVERYWHERE! GREAT! NOW I'M GOING TO MISS CROSS-COUNTRY PRACTICE." What you can't hear is the implication in his voice that I lost his keys. I wasn't the last one in his car - he was. I have no idea where he put them, but suddenly it's my problem and I have to stand in the office and try to silently scream back at him: "There's nothing I can do right now. I have no idea where they are." And then get hung up on. These are the days when motherhood sucks. When nobody likes me. When my daughter thinks I'm ruining her life because I won't let her read a book that includes the line of dialogue: "Can sperm survive in a swimming pool?" This is the same daughter that last week screamed: "MOM, WHERE'S MY ASHLEE SIMPSON CD?" Could it be that they wouldn't lose things if they ever picked up after themselves? No, that's MY job because I'm home all day and I don't really have anything else to do. And because it's my job, well then, I must be the person losing everything.

Yeah, that's me - professional life-wrecker and key loser. F*#k it. I give my two-week notice. They can find someone else. Somebody else who will know which one doesn't eat vegetables and which one hates Rice Krispy Treats because it gives her a tummyache. Maybe the new mom who won't be so "controlling" and "crabby" will figure out which pop stars they love and find tickets to their concert and sit through the incessant screaming so their child can have a great memory. Or perhaps Mom #2 will camp out overnight outside Best Buy to get one of only 100 new video gaming systems for their birthday.

See, this is what bugs me - they NEVER remember the times I went above-and-beyond the call of duty. EVER. Well, I do and boy will I remind them of it when they have children that are unbearable, because they will. In fact, maybe I'll even coach their children to be unbearable. Wouldn't that be sweet revenge? Ahh, just the thought of it makes me smile.