Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Two.

Here is a completely un-exaggerated list of things my daughter threw screaming tantrums about today:

The Starbucks in the grocery store had thoughtfully stocked several lemon cake pops since those are her favorite, we always shop on Tuesdays, and they know her as "Lemon Cake Pop Girl". So today is the day she asked for a pink one. They were out of pink.

After allowing her to "adopt" a cucumber and a delicata squash, I drew the line at an out-of-season $8 watermelon.

The sticker fell off her delicata squash.

I wouldn't let her hug the pork chops. They were her favorite. Ever. You are the worst, Mom.

I wouldn't buy her Silk eggnog instead of almond milk.

The cashier had to take her cucumber and delicata squash for 2.3 seconds to ring them up.

The bagger put the squash in a bag not knowing that it was her favorite. Ever. You are the worst, bagger. Worse than Mom.

She had to walk to the car because there was no room in the cart for her.

I wouldn't let her ride home in the trunk of the car.

I wouldn't let her get on Ry's bus when it dropped him off.

I wouldn't give her a cup of coffee. Which is her favorite. Ever. You're totally the worst again, Mom.

The sun was in her eyes on the way to ABA.

I suggested buying her sunglasses while we were out. I CAN'T WEAR GLASSES. You are really the worst, Mom!

She wanted her hat off.

She wanted her hat on.

She wanted her hat off.

She wanted her hat on.

Her hair was touching her face.

Her hair, having been removed from her face, was still touching her ears.

A little girl bit Rylan. Which hurt Pippa deeply, obviously.

The sun was in her eyes and Mom! You haven't bought me sunglasses yet! You are beyond the worst!

I was incapable of re-sealing the top of the container of Zax sauce she had with her lunch and had no desire to eat but was determined to save for later. Where are your superhuman mom-glue powers, Mom?!

There weren't enough Man-in-the-Yellow-Hats in her Curious George fruit snacks.

There were CARS. In the PARKING LOT. I don't want these cars, Mom!

She wanted a book about Santa that was supposed to play music but was broken. And cost $8.99. And Mom you are absolutely the worst ever for not buying me my FAVORITE book just because it's broken!

I bought dog food in a green bag. She wanted the dog food in the orange bag. Which is for large breeds. And we own a Corgi.

I bought candy canes for Dylan since they're his favorite. She wanted one and I told her she could have one after we went to the library. But I don't want the library, Mom!

I put the books we checked out last week in the book drop at the library.

I asked her to look at books.

There were cookbooks. I just. CAN'T. Get those cookbooks out of my sight!

I couldn't turn a square magnet into a circle.

I asked if she wanted to leave the library and go have a candy cane.

I wouldn't let her crawl to the car.

I wouldn't eat a candy cane.

I insisted on having my water bottle in my cupholder in the front seat where she could neither reach it nor see it while she was riding in the car. How. Dare. You. Mom.

I scolded her for killing a ladybug.

I wouldn't let her lure a stray kitty with her leftover toast from lunch and then take kitty home with us. She claimed Tobi (our ancient grouchy anti-social cat) wanted this kitty. Think of poor lonely Tobi, Mom!

We had to go home.

There were TREES. On the side of the ROAD. I don't want these trees!

I was stopped at a red light. GO MOM!

Daddy put the wrong pajama pants on her.

Nobody wanted to read her a bedtime story while she was screaming at the top of her lungs and thrashing about.


I only wish I could have video'd all of these and turned them into a clever parody of Taylor Swift's "Twenty-two". In my mind the chorus goes:

I don't know about you, but I'm feeling f*cking two.
Everything in my life sucks and it's all because of you!
You allow cars to exist and trees, too.
And I can outlast you, because I'm two, oh yeah, f*cking two.

I'm two, b*tches, deal with it.