Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Yes Sir, Little Man, Sir

I've grown up lucky enough to live in a democracy. For the most part, anyway. As in outside of my house. Because at home, I did live with my mother, which meant I wasn't allowed to watch more than an hour of TV (which consisted of whatever my parents wanted to watch, which was mostly French documentaries and newscasts). Also, I had to be in bed by 8:30, even when I was 13. And while most 16 year-olds had curfews of 11, midnight or beyond, mine was 9:30 or 10 p.m., because my dad had to be the one to drop me off and pick me up places, and he refused to stay up late.

But I was fed, I had a roof over my head, so it's hard to complain. Although I was yelled at, a lot, for doing horrible things like getting an A instead of an A+ or for putting the forks with the knives in the dishwasher, when we all know they should go in separate compartments. Also? I let my skin come off in almost invisible amounts sometimes, which would then create dust, and this really drove my mother nuts. And don't even get her started on my constant production of CO2 gas.

Then I moved out. And I could do whatever the hell I wanted, whenever the hell I wanted. If I wanted to eat ice cream for dinner? I did. Watch a marathon of Brady Bunch episodes? Sure! Not clean my dishes until Hazardous Material signs were posted on them by scientists? Yup!

Eventually, I moved in with Sweetie Pie, which meant that it wasn't anarchy so much, and I didn't really have an issue with that, because for the most part, I rule the roost.

And then entered Little Man. And more and more, I'm feeling like I've entered the military. Because really, this drill sergeant has a way with words.

And it's not just to me. Like yesterday, we were watching Law & Order SVU, which despite popular wisdom, is actually fantastic television for toddlers. A rape victim began to weep on the television, and Little Man looked at her and stonefaced said "NO CRYING!!!!!" Which I thought was a little rough, considering, she'd just been raped and all.

Getting home from work is also extremely stressful, because the second I set foot into the kitchen, Little Man expects me to have a seven-course meal ready for him. Forget Rachael Ray's 30-minute meals. In my benevolent dictator's world, I better come up with a 30-second meal. And it better be good and not include broccoli or green beans.

But this totalitarian regime? I don't mind. Because when you're this cute and you kiss and hug me spontaneously, I'm very likely to have a 10-foot high statue made in honor of your dictatorship.

Love,

Catwoman.

8 comments:

M said...

Who knew dictatorship could be so sweet!

That Chick Over There said...

I know that should not be funny. Yet, I laughed.

Oh. How I laughed.

Emma in Canada said...

Your mother and my mother must be related. Except for the French documentaries. My mum was all about Knots Landing and Falcon Crest.

Kellie said...

There's a really, really good chance that I laughed while reading this. Out loud. :)

Julie said...

Too funny - you crack me up - not even beaing able to breath without getting in trouble. Sounds like Mama ran a pretty tight ship!

random_mommy said...

That kid has you wrapped around your finger!! hehehe!

Any progress on Little One part 2? In other words, do it lately?

Elle said...

Well at least you have a cute dictator right? LOL much more charming than Castro!

Rachel said...

My kids watch it! LMAO!!! That post was hilarious!

No crying!