Before I sat down to write this article, I took the picture I've posted here. It's the first full day of their summer vacation, and my kids -- deranged with freedom -- have been up to loud giggling shenanigans all morning, culminating with a snack break that turned so raucous they managed to knock over a cup not five seconds after I snapped that photo.
At least it was just water, but jesus. Nothing drives me up a wall quite like a kid who sends a full beverage flying across the room as the direct result of their own jackassery. I mean, sure, they're kids, and kids have accidents, but I can't help it: spilling stuff is the number one item on my list of unintentional kid screwups that make my head feel like it's going to spin in a full circle then POP RIGHT THE HELL OFF.
You know that old adage about how you shouldn't cry about spilled milk? I understand the meaning of it, that there's no use in being upset over a situation that's already happened. But here's the deal, in my house, if you send a cup of milk splattering all over my entire kitchen, I WANT YOU TO BE UPSET. Groveling, even. Mother we are so very very sorry, we'll help clean up immediately and we'll be certain to avoid such careless actions in the future. We know that a tipped-over container of milk has the trajectory of a downed 747, scattering its sticky detritus over virtually every surface within a 10-mile radius, and we understand the giant ass-pain we have caused you with this incident. (That never happens, by the way. What happens is that the child in question stares at me with a deer-in-the-headlights expression, then eventually wanders off to play with LEGOs while I curse and swab ineffectually with paper towels.)
Okay, so spilled things are crazymaking for me. See also: messed-up television settings. I know, I know, this is the dumbest thing to get frustrated about ever, but when a kid manages to somehow program the TV to show a blue screen with CHANNEL NOT AVAILABLE while Spanish burbles in the background, NO ME GUSTA.
Lastly, the kid accident that triggers the most disproportionately passionate internal response from me: the child-delivered flat tire. You know, when a kid is walking so close behind you they step on the back of your foot and your shoe partially comes off? Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaage. Here's my brain: AS PAYBACK FOR THAT OFFENSE I WILL TAKE ALL YOUR TOYS AND TORCH THEM IN A GASOLINE-SOAKED PIT WHILE YOU WEEP BROKEN TEARS OF ENDLESS SORROW. (My mouth: "Sweetie, watch where you're going.")
Tell me, do you have any kid accident pet peeves that make you totally nuts?
Images via Linda Sharps