It’s Vocabulary Time with Southern Dad

This morning, as I hit the snooze button for the second time, I was awakened loudly by a little girl that refuses to sleep pass 3am, these days.  {Oh did you think that sleep problems were only for the small and immobile.  Yeah me, too.  I am coming to realize that sleep problems get worse as kids get older, because they have the ability to wander the house unattended.  Which is fine, as long as you let sleeping parents lie.}  I jumped from my bed, because it is picture day.  Must. Stop. Child. From. Picking. Out. Her. Own. Clothes. For. PICTUREDAY!  I had explained to Amber that she would have to wear something nice for school today.  I should have further explained that nice meant something nice for normal little 5 yr old girls, not nice for rising teen starlets who need to hooker it up for the cameras.  *sigh*

I ran to her room and saw her standing in a denim skirt with mauve footless stockings searching for a shirt.  She wanted to wear what she wore to Catechism the night before.  My strategy with Amber is to minimize arguments as much as possible, so I had agreed to let her wear this outfit to church.  However, I would be damned if I was going to have photographic evidence of how I let my daughter dress to avoid a knock down, drag out fight.  So at 5:30 in the morning, Amber and I stood in her room throwing loud statements back and forth.  She wailed, screamed, stomped and I yelled, screamed, stomped and maybe threw a shirt or two.  Then I decided it was time for Amber to learn a little something about compromise.  I told her she could wear the plaid shirt she wanted, but she couldn’t wear the denim skirt with the tights.  Of course, I should have just stabbed her in the heart, which would have hurt much less than suggesting that she wear her new capri pants.  HOW DARE I?!  Where are the cops when a little girl needs justice?  Needless to say, she didn’t understand compromise and we both lost.  Which is the bastard definition of compromise: No one wins.  First causalty of Vocabulary time for the day.  And lesson 1 for me: arguments that are avoided one day will bite you in the ass another.

As her punishment and a way to get all of these small, loud and arugmentive people away from me, I told her that she could not watch TV and had to do her homework.  Take that loud and annoying little girl.  That will teach you to mess with me at 5:30 in the morning.  What I should have said was do the writing portion of your homework, so I don’t have to worry about it later.  What my husband heard was do the reading portion of your homework, so he can work on his laptop and pretend to listen.  Aren’t we the greatest parents around?   Lesson 2 for me: When trying to avoid parental duty, remember that the other parent, when left alone with children, will avoid his duty without your knowledge and you will end up with more work in the end.

As I was getting ready for the day, I heard a strange sound.  It sounded much like a boing from the cartoons. I ignored it, figuring that my mind was playing sleep deprived games on me.  I should have paid closer attention and raced downstairs before George gave his definition of one of Amber’s vocabulary words.  “Daddy, what does job mean?”.  That is when George’s ears perked up.  Here was his chance to give me grief and pass down his knowledge to the next generation.  George’s definition of ”job”: “Just Over Broke.  They give you enough to keep you coming back, but never enough to get you ahead”.  I had heard this definition enough during our dating time when I worked as a salesperson then manager of a retail store.  After my ears started to bleed with this constant propaganda, I decided to quit and let him support me.  That is when I decided he was right and I started my career as a pampered, middle class housewife.  You know, he is right.  I am much more ahead than I ever was with a J.O.B.  Lesson 1 for husband who thinks he is so clever: When you spew propaganda, people will begin to believe you and then it will bite you in the ass. 

Have fun on your NON-JOB, honey, I will be spending your money.