Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Mornings with Bud

Me: Do you want Lucky Charms or Coco Puffs?
Bud: The one with the green frog on it.
Me: We don’t have Smacks, I asked if you wanted Lucky Charms or Coco Puffs.
Bud: I want the one with the green frog on it!
Me: I’m sorry Bud, we don’t have that. I’ll write it on the list for next time.
Bud: I HATE YOU! I want the one with the frog!!!!!!
Me: We don’t say hate you little twerp, now I’m going to give you Lucky Charms if you don’t tell me what you want.
Bud: I don’t want Lucky Charms!
Me: OK, then I’ll make you Coco Puffs.
Bud: NO!
Bud: Oooh! Pancakes! Yeah!! Thank you mommy!
Momentary pause
Bud: I love you mommy
Me: I’m going to kill one of us, I’m not sure which yet.

It’s Wednesday, show and tell day.
Me: Bud, you need to bring something for show and tell.
Bud: (holds a finger up to signal me to wait)
Me: (waiting
Me: (waiting while he makes funny faces that make me want to
smack hug him).
Me: BUD!!! Go into your toy closet and pick out a toy!
Bud: I have to go pee.
(Please note that the ONLY time he decides, on his own, that he has to go pee is when I ask him to do something)

He goes to the bathroom and I head to the closet to attempt to size up his options. After a few minutes of trying to find something appropriate I realize that he is taking a loooong time. I peek my head out of the closet and see that he’s at the sink sitting on the sink.

Me: Bud, what are you doing?
No answer.
Me again: Bud! What’s up?
No answer.

I go in there and he’s making funny faces at the mirror. Sometimes I want to flush him down the toilet he’s so funny.

Me: Bud, you are supposed to be washing your hands.
(He continues to make funny faces.)
Me: Bud! Hands! Now!
(No reaction so I grab his hands and wash them for him before I use them to beat him senseless)
Me: OK, now go pick out a toy.
(He proceeds to climb up to the computer.)
Me: Bud! What are you doing? Go get a toy!!!!!

At this point it dawns on me that he’s like Dory from Finding Nemo. He’s very well intentioned but shiny objects distract him and he no longer remembers that he was supposed to be doing something. I lead him by the shoulders into the toy closet.

Me: OK, what do you want to bring?
Bud: Ummm.
Me: How about Mr. Potato Head?
Bud: No.
Me: How about your cowboy hat?
Bud No.
Me: How about this little car?
Bud: Already brought that.
Me: What about…
Bud: I want to take this truck! (Mind you he’s staggering under its weight as he tries to hold it up)
Me: Sorry Bud, that’s too big. What about your microphone?
(At this point he’s now playing with said truck, completely ignoring me.)

So that I don’t slap him I walk out of the closet. Not to mention that it’s like a freezer in there because it’s poorly insulated and has no heater and my fingers are going numb. I tell him to finish his breakfast because we have to hurry up and get going.

As I’m shutting the light to the closet I notice his Rangers goalie mask on the shelf. I grab that and bring it to him.

Me: What about this?
Bud: YEAH! I like that uh, that uh, that…
Me: It’s a goalie mask.
Bud: I KNOOOOW! Stop being a ho ho.
(This is his latest kick. He’s calling everything a ho ho. Fabulous!  I don’t know where he gets his penchant for making up words!!)
Me: OK, slappy let’s get going!

The frustration level continued when I dropped Bud off at his classmates house (her mom drives him to school for me) and the first thing his classmate said is “Why is Bud not in his pajamas? It’s pajama day at school today.”


I tried calling my dear husband from their house to see if there was any way he could bring his PJ’s so he didn’t miss out (like last year when I also forgot but didn’t have a reminder until Bud came home upset that he was the only one who didn’t wear his pajamas. They also had a picture taken for the newspaper that day and since he's so little they sat him in the front row. Now we have a permanent archive of my forgetfulness! Because I don't carry enough guilt around with me!) but my dear husband doesn’t usually answer his phone when he doesn’t recognize the number (note to self: Get dear husband to program her number into his phone!!!!) So I go running out to my car where I proceed to slip on the ice because they never shovel their driveway and I scrape my hand and bruise my leg! The fun never stops folks!

I finally get in touch with my husband and (thank the good Lord!) he is able to run the PJ’s for me. But then he has the audacity to ask which ones! Like I would know what kind of mood our child might be in at the moment! I left him over a minute ago, in which time the answer has changed 14 times! Since I’ve already left their house and am driving to work, I better call and find out because I don’t want to subject the poor mother to one of his meltdowns. She’s too nice to inflict that on! And thankfully I called because I would have chosen his “wing” Buzz Lightyear’s and I would have been W-R-O-N-G! No, today is apparently a Woody kind of day because I hear him say “I’m a cowboy! Duh!!”

Well isn’t that just a ho ho!

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