I tried to sit, but Harper sat on me. I stood and she pulled on me. Leaned on me. I snapped. In public. Nothing too dramatic, just your standard “Can you please let go of me and STOP PULLING ON MY CLOTHES!” Quite loudly. And I didn’t care less who heard me. And then I did what normal people do, I took a photo of her pulling on my clothes, uploaded it onto Instagram and asked everyone else if it drives them crazy or if I’m the only one. The next 12 minutes were spent chuckling into my phone and before I knew it, the lesson was done. Win!
It seems I’m not alone. It seems I’m not the only one who has uttered the words “Can you just STOP TOUCHING ME?” Oh yes, I’ve said that to MY OWN CHILDREN. Patting drives others crazy. Others have trouble with being shown stuff RIGHT IN YOUR FACE LIKE RIGHT THERE. There’s the climbing under dresses, up shirts, tapping. You name it – someone else has been really annoyed by the puzact same thing with their own kid. Promise!
When we were flying back from NY Mrs Woog almost completely lost her shit over a woman across the aisle from us who had a pen, you know the ones with the retractable press bit at the end? Those. After she had filled in her customs card she pressed that pen in. And out. And in. Andoutandinandoutandinandout. And Mrs Woog just about couldn’t take it. And I just about loved watching the tension between the woman. The pen. And Mrs Woog’s patience – great drama!
So. What drives you (as I made the voice over lady say on Media Watch last week) cray cray CRAZY? It doesn’t have to be about children, but dear GOD they give you plenty to work with.
I cannot stand the clothes pulling.
I cannot stand the coughing.
I cannot stand loud breathing and don’t get me started on a nose whistle/breathe scenario.
I cannot stand my husband’s love of small change. That he leaves fucking EVERYWHERE.
I cannot stand baskets of clean washing left unfolded.
I have trouble dealing with toilet rolls on so that the paper comes under. It’s over.
I could go on, but someone would just tell me that I’m ungrateful. So I’ll leave it at that. Tell me. Go on. It’s like therapy.