Parenting: I think I'm doing it wrong. Again.
I don't know how the hell it happens......but every time I punish my kids "for their own good", I end up punishing my damn self, too! When the little spawn gets in trouble, she is punished by not being allowed play dates, not being able to watch TV, and not being able to play with her toys or "do artwork". That only leaves books. And when the books get old, that heifer is all up in my shit....talking my ears off and driving me up the wall. There isn't enough medication and booze in the world to get me through those days without going insane. If I duct tape her mouth shut and tie her to a chair, it's considered child abuse. What about parent abuse?! Where are the laws for that shit?!
And, don't even get me started on the teenage punishment. Along with telephone/internet curfews and no extra-curricular outings with friends, the oldest spawn has currently been punished by actually having to read. That's right. Books = Punishment. The problem is: I have to read the damn books, too, because how else will I know what the fuck she's reading in order to quiz her on it?
Spawn: Can I pick the book this time?
Me: It has to be a chapter book and it cannot contain illustrations.
Spawn: So, Calvin and Hobbes is out?
Spawn: Mooooom! You know I haaaaaate to read! Why do you torture me?!
Me: How are we even related? I'm ashamed to call you my daughter right now. There are 693 books in this house, how many have you even attempted to read?
Spawn: I read the first part of Twilight, remember?
Me: One chapter of the first book hardly counts.
Spawn: I saw all the movies... it's the same thing. Besides, I read books at school all the time. Smart books by famous, dead authors.
Me: Name one.
So, here's what she picked:
Who the fuck is being punished here?!
They don't make Clif's Notes for the Pretty Little Liars books, y'all (believe me, I've looked). My eyes are bleeding just thinking about all the teen angst and drama that I'm about to endure with this round of punishment. Kill me now. Put the barrel of your gun right in my face and blow my head away to smithereens. Twice. Just to be sure I'm good and dead.
I'd swear she was switched at birth if it weren't for the fact that she was the only white baby born at the county hospital the week of September 7, 1996. There was one Vietnamese baby and the rest were black. I bet all those kids read!
To make matters worse, she has to bring her Geometry book home twice a week for studying. GEOMETRY. I don't know shit about Geometry except for pie-r-square. Oh, wait... I can probably decipher all the basic shapes unless they have more than 5 sides. And, even then, it's a crap shoot, what with all the parallellagrams and other similar bullshit that is absolutely useless in real life.
High school math makes me feel like a goddamned idiot. Those teachers need to step it up and earn their keep so I don't have to do this shit at home! I specifically chose NOT to be a school teacher because:
1. I hate kids
2. I hate math
3. I hate people in general
4. I refuse to wear panty hose; and
5. Cafeteria food sucks.
My point here is that parenting is a bitch. When you do it "right", you suffer like a mofo. When you do it "wrong", you end up in a prison for the criminally insane. Either way, you're screwed. Both literally and figuratively. Neither of which would be considered a pleasant experience in my book.