Some days I think the aspects of having a child are ridiculous, its like having an angry little midget following me through the house undoing everything I’ve just done. I started cleaning yesterday because company was coming over, the second I put all the stuffed animals on the shelf my son decides that he should throw them all over the damn place… whatever I hope that’ll keep him busy. I start folding laundry, I go into the kitchen to put the rags and kitchen towels away and my son goes and dumps the remaining laundry BACK into the laundry basket. I start wiping down the tables and my son comes over and smears the Lysol all over the damn table… so I grab him by the hand, drag him to the bathroom and wash his hands, in the process he gets water all over the bathroom mirror that I had just wiped down.
I huff for a moment and go back to the laundry and quickly fold it, we head upstairs so I can put away the clothes, as I’m doing this he runs over to my bathing suit drawer (yes I’m an avid bikini collector, I could set up a shop) and he proceeds in taking EVER bathing suit in there and drags it out into the hallway. By this time I really don’t give a shit anymore, so I go into the bathroom for a moment’s peace to brush my teeth, he hears me in there and runs up to me and starts hanging off my leg calling “mum mum mum mum” he’s literally crawling up my damn leg. I finally gargle, spit, and look at him with fire in my eyes and tell him to stop, he pulls out my weakness and smiles at me and runs away. I smile and follow him to his room which he has totally destroyed in a matter of seconds between dragging out my bikini’s and climbing me. I dress him (its like trying to tackle a raging bull) and bring him back downstairs where I finish. My house isn’t at all shining and perfect but it passes for mediocre and that’s what I’ll have to live with, screw company, they have no idea what its like to have a kid anyways.