I heard this phrase last week, referring to puppy training. I thought it was rather fitting for a two and a half year old girl who is quickly forming retorts faster than Tara Reid can slam a Tequila Sunrise. If this was what I have now, I am thinking a 13-year vacation, all expenses paid, to an exclusive Sandals resort, is looking pretty good right about now.
My daughter, with etiquette easily compared to that of most bar patrons, let out a belch this weekend that measured on the Richter scale. Ground zero, according to the local news channel, was our address. Neighbors, whom I love like a cold sore, came to inquire about their foundation shifting. After the fumes had dissipated, I asked her, very nonchalantly and filled with rhetoric, "Did you burp?" Expecting a cowering acknowledgement, followed by the parenting phrase, "what do you say," I got a response from her that, even now, gives me chills. "Yeah, I did," she said, as blatantly as the oral flatulence that was expelled moments earlier. It is almost as if there were no consequences to any defiance in my house. I think, in her quest for independence, she was thinking she could get away with such royal behavior. Testing the waters with a belch is something I should be able to handle. I wasn't aware of how wrong I was.
The mind of a two-year old is rather amazing, if I may say. What motivates independence at such a young age? To me, she has had it pretty easy and has lived her life to this point with a personal valet, a chef, an personal clothing shopper, in-home pediatric care, and a virtual Toys R Us in her closet. She has had an all expenses paid vacation, continuous mind you, for over thirty months. She is unhappy now, thinking it is time for her to make her own decisions. After some serious thought on the validity of this request, my wife had to remind me of her age. Too bad, I thought, as purchasing dinner, consisting of fruit snacks and root beer, would create a serious increase in our operating income. Brackenbury Inc. was looking to free up some capital. However, considering the malnourishment of my child was not an option, so we retained the rights to the in-home chef service....for now.
I am not a saint. I rant a lot. Some times I get heated in my ramblings. If you are botherd by an occasional F-Bomb, turn away now. If you don't mind it, stick around, read on. You'll laugh and cry all in one viewing!
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About Me
- Eli
- Married with kids
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- The Nation's Largest Rapist
- Size Doesn't Matter
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