“Play dates are fun!” Says NO ONE who has ever had to deal with 7, 6, 4, and 2 year olds acting like it’s 4am at a rave. They only things missing are the glow sticks. And, I mean, sometimes there are actual glow sticks.
The intentions are good. Your girl has brought her brood, a couple Americanos, maybe some sweets. You’re ready for an hour or two of catch up and are excited for adult conversation.
Before you can take a sip of from your grande and begin a conversation about current events, you are slapped back into reality. There will be no adult conversation. There won’t be any relaxation. In fact, you won’t even be speaking to each other. Instead, during this two-hour torture session, you will just be yelling. In parallel form. In tandem. At varying octaves:
- Stop running!
- Don’t jump off the bed!
- Watch out for the corners!
- Stop yelling! Stop screaming! Why are you so loud!?!
- Stop chasing each other!
- Stop Fighting!
- WHY?!?!?!?!??!?
- Why don’t you try a quiet activity? Maybe you want to colour.
- NO! You can’t play with glitter in your fancy clothes!
- If you aren’t going to behave, we’re leaving!
And, then, as if they have a built-in bank of retorts, these little kiddies will say one, some, or all of the following, making your blood boil that much hotter:
- I promise we won’t run! *runs off*
- But, she kicked me in the heart! (also, substitute – stomach, head, vagina, foot, face, neck, privates)
- I don’t know why you think we shouldn’t eat donuts/cake/ice cream?
- Shhhhh if we are quiet enough they won’t hear us jumping off the bed!
- Let’s put the baby in the closet and close the door and see what happens!
- No, let’s all go in the closet and see what happens.
- Do you think we can fit? (I’m pretty sure that’s a big fat fucking no)
- We’ll behave….promise.
- We’ll be quiet if you just put ‘x’ movie on. (You concede, they get up and take off in the first 10 minutes).
- I wonder what would happen if… (famous last words).
You and your girl have had enough. Play date is oh-vah! You try to clean up the disaster that was once your home, and your girlfriend is alongside you laughing at how screwed you both are when they are teenagers. And for the 12th time today, you realize what your mom had to deal with when you were a child, and you feel the immense urge to call her and apologize.
You’ve aged five years, are ready to go to bed…and it’s only 6pm. Your kiddies thank you for being an awesome mom, because they had the best time! And there, in that moment, you get suckered into the believing the day wasn’t so bad. And you agree to another one. Next week.
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Featured Image via Designer Karen Walker
This is brilliant! I love the way you write and cover such an honest view on parenting. Glad I found your blog