Wednesday, February 3, 2016

A Letter To My Prepubescent Child

Dear Child,

Yes, this letter is for you, the child who rolls your eyes and lets that "tone" creep into your voice; the one who tells me "no" when I tell you to do something, after I've asked you nicely before resorting to the "do it now" command. I'm going to impart some wisdom here. Pay attention, because I will NOT repeat myself. 

When you, my darling child, decide to behave like a little shit, you might want to remember a few things. 

First, I am your mother. I will be your mother for the rest of your life. You're ten/eleven years old now. You've got at least eight to ten more  years at home. That means you deal with me. Every. Single. Day. For. The. Next. Decade. Think about it. 

Second, although I'm more tolerant than my mother, I do have a breaking point. You have passed the point, my love. That is not wise. 

Third, you should understand that all of the electronics, toys, and other assorted crap you have, are privileges that can disappear faster than an unguarded birthday cake around yours truly. 

And finally, you will be a parent one day. And I sincerely hope I'm around then. If not, I will leave a detailed list of all of the bullshit you pulled for my grandchildren. Why? Because that's the way I roll, my sweet. And be warned, the apple does not fall too far from the tree. How do I know? Because you're just like...your dad! (You didn't think I'd say me, did you?!)