Dear Diary …
The seasons … they are a-changing. And you know how I can tell? Well it’s not that the leaves are changing color … cuz they aren’t. It’s not that there is a chill in the air … cuz it was 95 degrees over the weekend. And it’s not that the sun is setting early … cuz it’s still light out well into the evening.
Then how do I know that the seasons are a-changin’? Well I’m just guessing, because every store I drive by has a bunch of Halloween stuff for sale. So apparently it’s fall. 90 degree … bright green … sunny … fall.
Now look … I have come to accept as a fact of life that stores put this stuff out early. Halloween stuff goes out the day after Labor Day … and Christmas stuff will be EVERYWHERE the day after Halloween (and maybe even sooner). I don’t blame them. I blame you. You who buys the stuff the minute they put it out. It’s your fault. If nobody bought the stuff … they wouldn’t put it out so early. So I blame you. Don’t complain. You did this.
But here’s the one thing that I really don’t understand … pumpkins. And I mean real pumpkins … not you fake pumpkin people that have turned us all into a Pumpkin Spiced World already. Whatever … Not for me. But, it makes you happy and you love the stuff, so enjoy your fumpkin.
But REAL pumpkins … already for sale at the store. And I see that, and I wonder … “What idiot buys a real pumpkin the first week of September?” What are you gonna do with that thing? Cut it up for a Jack-o-Lantern? It was 90 degrees this weekend … all you’re gonna have is a saggy, wrinkled old man jack-o-lantern that smells like death and decay on your front stoop. Who wants death and decay by their front door? Not me!
And you ain’t gonna eat it … no normal human actually takes home a giant grocery store pumpkin and roasts it. So it’s just gonna sit there in your house, or in front of your house, going bad.
4 days ago … 4 days!!! I was at the beach … wearing suntan lotion and putting limes in beers. For the love … It’s not pumpkin time yet!
OK … moving on Diary …
As a parent, every day is an adventure. And life in general is all about balance … the kid, they don’t get EVERYTHING they want, but they get stuff. Some days are all about them. And other days there’s grownup time so Mommy and Daddy can act like real people.
My point is … I make the call. Daddy. Well Mommy too … but we’re in charge. And whatweI don’t need, is other people in our lives doing what I call “working the kid propaganda.” This is where they ask the kid directly if they wanna do something.
For example … my Mother is coming to town this week … and she’s always working the kid propaganda.
She’ll go to my daughter and say … “Hey Isabella … do you think we should go get ice cream tonight?”
What do you think she’s gonna say? She’s five. Of COURSE she’s going to say yes! And now I gotta deal with the fallout and take her for ice cream. How do you know she didn’t have a giant cupcake after lunch? (Because a lot of times she does) Now she’s gettin’ a big ol’ ice cream too just because you asked.
This is an actual conversation I overheard between my mother and my 5 year old … “Isabella … do you want to take a family trip to France some time with Gran?”
Surprise! You know what her answer was? Yes!
I ain’t takin’ her to France!
Stop trying to work the system thru the kid! You know darn well ifyou ask me, we ain’t going to France.
Kids will say yes to just about anything you ask them … and you know what else they do when the reality police … aka Mommy and Daddy have to be the actual parents and say no to things? They cry and whine.
So now I gotta deal with the crying and the whining because you caused this whole mess in the first place.
Don’t talk to them. They’re kids … they don’t know nothin’. Talk to me. I’m in charge!
Till next time Diary … I say, goodbye.