Why Bob Is An Only Child
It's Day Two of Mommy and Bob Time.
Day One went rather well. Ben made Bob breakfast and Bob, therefore, let me sleep until around 9:30. I got up and tried to come up with a gameplan for the day. After reading several movie reviews and searching for a fun dining establishment close to a theater, I finally decided we'd have lunch at Winstead's, then go see "Ant Bully" at the megaplex. After the movie, we'd run to Super Target for groceries and then call it a day. Bob was on board with this plan 100% and we left the house around 11:15.
Lunch was okay, except Bob was pretty wound up about actually eating in the restaurant instead of in the car or at home. He did well, but I had to constantly remind him to sit down, eat, don't pour salt on the table, get off the floor, etc.
After lunch, we had about an hour to kill, so we went to Old Navy to peruse their selection of pants for shorties and see what size Bob is likely to wear this year. It was in Old Navy where I was hit with the sudden realization I needed to find a restroom right now, and I spent the next 10 minutes dragging poor Bob from Old Navy to Steinmart to Office Max and finally to Bed Bath & Beyond in search of a public restroom. I was certain our Day of Fun was going to be cut tragically short by Mommy crapping her pants. Thank you, Bed Bath & Beyond. You're my hero.
The movie was good. The grocery shopping trip was somewhat annoying thanks to the assholes who develop character packaging. "I want that one." I'm so tired of hearing my mother's voice every time I launch into the I'm Not Spending Twice As Much Just Because That Box Has A Damn Tiger On It speech. I don't understand why they can't just put everything in a plain black and white box a'la generic stuff and just put big black letters on the front to tell you what it is--"YOGURT" or "GRANOLA BARS" or "FRUIT SNACKS." I've tried to explain to Bob that it all tastes like the same shit regardless of what fucking imaginary figure is on the front, but he's not having it. Instead, he wants to whine about how he "never gets what he wants" and I "never let him have anything."
Having just spent $15 on lunch and $22 at the damn movie theater to see a movie I didn't give a shit about, that pissed me off. "You just went to the movies and lunch. You got fruit snacks and popcorn. What do you mean, you never get anything you want?" I couldn't let it stop there, noooo. I was offended. So I told my not-quite-5 year old all about how there are poor kids in this country who don't get to go to restaurants or movies and barely have food when they're hungry, and he should be goddamn greatful he has what he has.
He's not. How would he ever know what it's like to ALWAYS hear "we can' afford it?" He'll (hopefully) never know what it's like to leave the dinner table still hungry. He'll never know what it's like to go to school wearing hand-me-downs from church families or clothes your grandmother made by hand or, God forbid, from the Goodwill. He's a spoiled little shit, because I don't want to deprive him just because I didn't have the things he can have. (My mother played that game, and we hated it. "I never had new things, and neither should you." Yawn. I always wanted to tell her, "sorry your life has sucked ass, Mom, but that's really not my fault," but that would only have resulted in getting backhanded, so I kept my opinions to myself.)
Today has been not so great. The Boy has been up my ass pretty much since we left the house. The plan was to drive out to Ben's parents' house and swim all afternoon, but Bob wanted to be an asshole from the moment we got there, and it was embarrassing as hell for me to deal with him in front of Ben's dad (who I suspect has that grandparent's notion that I'm too hard on Bob), so we left after only an hour and a half. This I'm Almost 5 and Therefore I Know Everything and You're a Dumbass Because You're Over 30 attitude of his is really starting to wear on me.
I just hope I still have a job when I go to work tomorrow morning. At least, I guess I hope I still have a job. It's kind of nice not having to work. But if I didn't work, I wouldn't have any excuse (or any money) to send Bob to preschool, and that would suck.
Day One went rather well. Ben made Bob breakfast and Bob, therefore, let me sleep until around 9:30. I got up and tried to come up with a gameplan for the day. After reading several movie reviews and searching for a fun dining establishment close to a theater, I finally decided we'd have lunch at Winstead's, then go see "Ant Bully" at the megaplex. After the movie, we'd run to Super Target for groceries and then call it a day. Bob was on board with this plan 100% and we left the house around 11:15.
Lunch was okay, except Bob was pretty wound up about actually eating in the restaurant instead of in the car or at home. He did well, but I had to constantly remind him to sit down, eat, don't pour salt on the table, get off the floor, etc.
After lunch, we had about an hour to kill, so we went to Old Navy to peruse their selection of pants for shorties and see what size Bob is likely to wear this year. It was in Old Navy where I was hit with the sudden realization I needed to find a restroom right now, and I spent the next 10 minutes dragging poor Bob from Old Navy to Steinmart to Office Max and finally to Bed Bath & Beyond in search of a public restroom. I was certain our Day of Fun was going to be cut tragically short by Mommy crapping her pants. Thank you, Bed Bath & Beyond. You're my hero.
The movie was good. The grocery shopping trip was somewhat annoying thanks to the assholes who develop character packaging. "I want that one." I'm so tired of hearing my mother's voice every time I launch into the I'm Not Spending Twice As Much Just Because That Box Has A Damn Tiger On It speech. I don't understand why they can't just put everything in a plain black and white box a'la generic stuff and just put big black letters on the front to tell you what it is--"YOGURT" or "GRANOLA BARS" or "FRUIT SNACKS." I've tried to explain to Bob that it all tastes like the same shit regardless of what fucking imaginary figure is on the front, but he's not having it. Instead, he wants to whine about how he "never gets what he wants" and I "never let him have anything."
Having just spent $15 on lunch and $22 at the damn movie theater to see a movie I didn't give a shit about, that pissed me off. "You just went to the movies and lunch. You got fruit snacks and popcorn. What do you mean, you never get anything you want?" I couldn't let it stop there, noooo. I was offended. So I told my not-quite-5 year old all about how there are poor kids in this country who don't get to go to restaurants or movies and barely have food when they're hungry, and he should be goddamn greatful he has what he has.
He's not. How would he ever know what it's like to ALWAYS hear "we can' afford it?" He'll (hopefully) never know what it's like to leave the dinner table still hungry. He'll never know what it's like to go to school wearing hand-me-downs from church families or clothes your grandmother made by hand or, God forbid, from the Goodwill. He's a spoiled little shit, because I don't want to deprive him just because I didn't have the things he can have. (My mother played that game, and we hated it. "I never had new things, and neither should you." Yawn. I always wanted to tell her, "sorry your life has sucked ass, Mom, but that's really not my fault," but that would only have resulted in getting backhanded, so I kept my opinions to myself.)
Today has been not so great. The Boy has been up my ass pretty much since we left the house. The plan was to drive out to Ben's parents' house and swim all afternoon, but Bob wanted to be an asshole from the moment we got there, and it was embarrassing as hell for me to deal with him in front of Ben's dad (who I suspect has that grandparent's notion that I'm too hard on Bob), so we left after only an hour and a half. This I'm Almost 5 and Therefore I Know Everything and You're a Dumbass Because You're Over 30 attitude of his is really starting to wear on me.
I just hope I still have a job when I go to work tomorrow morning. At least, I guess I hope I still have a job. It's kind of nice not having to work. But if I didn't work, I wouldn't have any excuse (or any money) to send Bob to preschool, and that would suck.
posted by Mitzi Green at 2:39 PM
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