Dried Spaghettios

WARNING!! If you’re going to get mad about me referring to kids as assholes, mother fuckers, idiots, or anything else just move along now. I use these names with love, now really fuck off and be gone if you can’t handle it.

We make ourselves believe that humans are complex creatures. We navigate each other either delicately or brutally depending on the bruises we have and which have been poked. The reality is no matter what walls you’ve built or what dickhead shell you’ve coated yourself in all we really want is a god damn hug.

Parenting is hard. How rare is it that someone became a parent AFTER they had any kind of semblance of having their shit together? We generally just go right on in to this madness. It’s like jumping off a bridge before the guy can even strap the damn bungee cord to you.

Our intentions are always good. We want to make these assholes happy. We want to give them whatever we didn’t have as kids whether it’s love, material shit, or just support. WE WANT TO GIVE IT. We have grand ideas about producing good humans who get it and give a shit.

I understand that they cannot see the whole picture yet, I’m sure I still can’t see it because you have to live first and experience all the things. What would be fucking nice is to get a HELLO, GOODBYE, HOW ARE YOU, HEY THANKS, or even a FUCK YOU. Acknowledgement of my existence beyond what’s for dinner, I need some shit or the fucking dryer is broken.

I am fucking cool. I know this. I don’t expect them to know it but my fuck, I don’t expect much from them. I support who they are as human people, I want them to follow their happiness and I love their asses but most of the time I feel like a hamster in his running wheel.

I feel like I must have gone wrong somewhere. I mean I know we all fuck up as parents but come on. I have a 17-year-old daughter who can’t be bothered to clean her slopped all over the stove spaghettios and crusty ass pan after she’s done eating? Then when I ask her to she literally takes the pan with the bottom full of spaghettios and dumps it into the sink like that’s all that needs to be done?

What is the point of this madness? When can I say Clearly this isn’t working out but I do wish you the best. Good day.

I can’t wait until these mother fuckers have places of their own with shit of their very own and I can come visit. First I will arrive before they are home and take red sauce and put splatterings everywhere. Next I’ll make bacon so the grease makes a nice coating everywhere on the stove. I’ll make lots of dirty dishes but to top it off I’ll pour a bowl of fruity pebbles and then leave a bunch in the bowl but I’ll use a blow dryer to speed up the normal process of leaving it to dehydrate in their room for 2 weeks creating a rainbow cement impossible to remove from any bowl. I will then find and throw away every single fork in thier house.

After that I’ll do them a favor and vacuum their house but I’ll only suck up things like dryer sheets and markers.

For the grand finale I’ll ask to take a shower. I’ll need at least 6 fresh towels to do this. I’ll use all the shaving cream in one go, make sure I leave all my hair in the sink, and then I’ll take the shower sprayer and just hose down the entire bathroom for good measure.

Because fuck you that’s why.

These assholes rip our hearts out from the very first day they arrive and continue for a lifetime and still at the end of the day we would lay down and give them our last breath no questions asked. WHAT THE FUCK MAN?

Afterword:

This was written yesterday scribbled furiously into a notebook. There were many more anger fucks that have been edited.

When I told Adam I wouldn’t be home right away he just said go find some quiet, I’ll be here. I came home to flowers and made from scratch penne ala vodka. Having a person who you don’t have to explain shit to but just gets it is invaluable and I hope you all have a person like this in your life who just picks your ass up when it’s down and knows exactly which lizard videos to cue up on the youtube.