Sometimes I am a jerk

I should not be allowed to have a blog. Or Facebook. Or have access to texting. Really, just anything that transmits the thoughts from my brain to another human being is a bad idea for me to have. Like a mouth.

Take for instance, last night. Here is my very nice friend (who gave us a crap-ton of advice about Disney World, which totally made our trip awesome, and which ups my jerkiness in this situation about 87 percentage points) who reported the following situation around 10:45 pm:

To which I responded:

(FYI, this is The Grudge.)

See, here is where a non-jerk might say, “Oh, I’m sure it’s just a raccoon! Or a puppy dog who wants a friend! Or a Care Bear, lost on its way back to Care-a-lot Castle!” or something optimistic and cheery. And I attempted that, I swear.

Except I didn’t really succeed.

The reason I know my jerkiness is verified and bonafide is that rereading these comments is making me laugh until tears come out of my eyes, one whole hour later.


And as long as I’m being a jerk, I’m going to go ahead and post this story.

Santa brought our family a Nintendo DSi. Santa was going to bring Noah a DSi, but wiser forces intervened (COMMON SENSE) and the DSi was instead labeled for the whole family so that ownership could not be claimed and video time become (as much) an issue. Noah loves it, and doesn’t ask to play on it—even in its newness—more than maybe once a day, and sometimes forgets about it altogether. (He’s always been more interested in hanging out with people.) (Which is reason #3425 that I love him.)

So two nights ago, before bedtime, L decided (in the vein of holiday cheer and fun and general lax vibey-ness) to let Noah play the DSi for some determined amount of time. I felt dubious about this. Bedtime has been a sticky situation lately, and the last thing we needed was something else to throw into the reasons-to-resist-bedtime mix. But, like I said, we were in the holidaycheerandfunandgenerallaxvibey-ness vein, so play he did. And predictably, it ended just as I thought: Apocalyptic Throwdown. Apparently whatever game he was playing did not end well (Tetris? Super Collapse? Something spatial reasoning-y and jumping-characters-free.) and he was totally distraught. I NEED TO PLAY IT AGAIN, DAD! I DO! I REALLY NEED TO! I WON’T GO TO BED UNTIL YOU LET ME PLAY IT! I NEED TO PLAY IT NOW! I REALLY DO! DAD! I HAVE TO PLAAAAAAAY IT! However, H.C. & F. & G. L. V. vein had officially ended at this point, and the word from L was firm: time for bed, bucko.





Garments rendering.

And so forth.

Finally, L, just to get a rest from the torrential tantruming, took a bathroom break. While he was gone, Noah was totally quiet (I was hiding doing important business in the kitchen and was only hearing things from afar), but once L returned, he picked right up where he left off as if L had never been gone. That in and of itself was hilarious, but even better is the note he carefully crafted while L was out of the room:

HAHAHAHA OMG how much do I love that kid? A whole whole lot, even though the fact that I wrote this story down and shared it with the Internet might make it seem otherwise.


1 Leigh Ann Laney { 12.30.10 at 9:25 am }

you should be ashamed of yourself.

care bear comment…LMAO!

noah’s “for real” comment…OMG that is soooo YOU!

no stick piles…yet.

2 Elizabeth H. { 12.30.10 at 11:00 am }

OMG, the second story is hilarious. His note deserves a spot on

3 Katy German { 01.07.11 at 10:59 pm }

Samuel dose the same thing with the new Wii. Now, before he plays we go through this long spiel about how games are meant to be fun and if they are not fun, then you need to take a break. Also, if you throw a fit and/or the Wii controller, you will not be playing anything for 3 days. We love you. (sigh) 5.5-year-olds are SO DRAMATIC!!!!

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