I’ve decided that around my daughter’s 5th birthday, I’m going to go ahead and hang a picture of my stretch marks in her bedroom.
You probably think that’s way out in left field, but I have a method to my madness.
I’ve noticed lately that kids are a little different than they were when I was little. They’re a little “mouthy”. When I was kid, we didn’t talk back. We knew that if we got that wild hair and decided to act on it, we’d be pickin’ our teeth up off the floor! I say that with love and laughter.
Well, I know my child isn’t gonna have that fear. She pretty much knows that if she laughs or smiles at me, she gets away with murder. Unless it’s suckers in the floor. What is with that??
So, I am going to take a picture of my lovely stretch marks, blow it up to about the size of a poster, and hang it on her ceiling above her bed. You know… where back in the day boys hung up trashy pictures of hussies with all the goods hanging out and big hair. Right there.
But what is the purpose of this picture hanging, Amy? I’m gonna tell ya.
I’ve come up with a crafty punishment.
The first time I hear, “Why??” yelled at me for telling her to do whatever it is I’m telling her to do, I’m gonna take her by the hand and tell her that I’m gonna show her “Why”. And then we’re gonna lay down on her bed, side by side. And then I’m gonna tell her all about child-birth. I’m gonna tell her that I am permanently deformed from squeezing her stubborn, sideways, resistant little body out of me! I’ll start with the G version and just get ickier and ickier as she ages.
And after I do that, I’ll explain that because I suffered through child birth, stretch marks, loose skin, and weight gain, what I say is the law! And I’ll tell her that when she has children of her own, then she’ll know. And then she’ll get to be the law. But not right now. Right now it’s time to stare at my pain.
But anyway, I figure that there won’t be but so many times before she’ll stop sassing me. It’ll be “Yes, ma’am,” “No ma’am” all day long!
And that’s the plan.
Ya know if y’all just wanna go ahead and put my daughter on your prayer list, feel free. She might need it. Hey and while you’re at it, put me on there, too. This kid is rotting my brain. That’s why I write these things and shame my family.
Anyhoo, stay out of trouble! And if you’re in the Northeast, stay inside unless you have a shield, a shovel, and a trash can full of salt. That’s what we do in the South when there is enough snow to make a footprint on the ground so don’t hate on my wisdom.
Have a GREAT weekend everyone!