As the Ring Pop Turns

Got the phone call today. It was inevitable. My parents watch my kids on a weekly basis. (I know, I am one lucky bitch) My father was on the other end of the line. He was frustrated, agitated, overwhelmed… there really aren’t enough adjectives to describe. The cause: my children. My father decided, after picking my son up from preschool, to take him and my 2-year-old daughter to the store. Why? Well, because they asked for candy. Ring Pops are like crack in my house. My kids want them everyday. I, however, don’t always cave in. Grandparents do. Don’t get me wrong my children don’t love them because of material things. They have an amazing relationship with my parents. In fact, when I tell my daughter, “I love you.” She says, “Well, I love Papa and Grammy.” Well, then screw you! My parents see my kids just about everyday. Enough gushy stuff, back to the story of how my kids embarrassed the hell out of me. My father took them to Wally Mart and generously put two bags of Ring Pops in the cart. Each child would get their own bag. Sweet? Yes! Smart? Of course…. IF my daughter wasn’t going through a selfish phase. (I hope it is a phase) The little princess decided at the checkout that she wanted BOTH bags. So, she smacked my son across the face when he attempted to take one. My son retaliated by squeezing her arm. This as my father pleaded with them to be nice. Unfortunately, since grandpa never disciplines the children he might as well have been speaking French. What do you do after children are rotten in the store? You take them to get pizza. My father had ordered ahead, but when he got there it wasn’t ready. As they waited my daughter was crying for mommy and calling my son stupid. And for the grand finale they threw the precious Ring Pops at one another. I am not proud my children behaved this way. I demanded both go in time-out. My mother, however, didn’t blame her sweet grand babies. “It’s your father’s fault for taking them both to a store.” No, to quote a friend, “they need to act like they been somewhere.” Tonight my dad called to make sure I wasn’t punishing his grandchildren. By punishment he means taking away toys or video games. Oh, the torture! My father told me, “I should have known better than to go down the bread aisle.” How dare he want to make a sandwich! See, my parents will never see my children as anything other than perfect. Yeah, I’m one lucky bitch.

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