Yesterday’s post was stupid. Fucking dumb. I am ashamed I posted it. I’m just having one of those weeks. My new tattoo is right at that point where it itches all the time and for some reason the past two days the neighbor kids have decided that my son’s room is the place to play. My wife is at school every night until 8 pm and yesterday wasn’t so bad, but the day before I was at the end of my rope. I told the kids to get out of the house and then I locked the apartment so they couldn’t get back in.
That sounds worse than it was.
I was outside watching the kids, but I did lock the apartment so they wouldn’t sneak back in. They didn’t want to go outside, but they were destroying our place, and they kept shouting:
“You’re mean! You’re mean!”
“Yes, I am mean. And proud of it! And when you call me mean it only encourages me.”
Before I had my own child I liked kids. I really did. But my child is too mature. So mature that my expectations for children’s behavior are all out of whack.
I am spoiled by my own child. How is that for crazy?
I’m really not that mean. I just want kids to not do stupid shit in my house, like feed the fish so much that now the fish tank is so full of uneaten fish flakes that I have to clean the fish tank. I ONLY CLEANED IT A WEEK AGO!
I did, however, fuck up on thing particularly badly. I told my son “Why did your stupid friends do this?” That was bad. I don’t think his friends are stupid, they just don’t think things through, cause they’re kids. I need to remember that more. I’m going to apologize when he gets home from school.
Cussing in my HOUSE!
We have no rules against cussing in my house. When I lived in Japan the kids there cuss like crazy. No one bats an eye. No one even cares. There are words they don’t use, like ‘pussy’ (in the anatomical sense), probably because they don’t have reason to. They’ll call each other the Japanese equivalent of shithead and nobody cares. I used to hang around with Japanese punks and their language wasn’t markedly more crude then elementary school kids. Or anyone else for that matter.
So I talked about it with my wife and decided on our rule for cussing: say whatever you want, just don’t say it in front of grandma, or anyone else who can be expected to care, because then we’ll get in trouble.
Now what’s funny is that I don’t really cuss all that much. So my son hears the words, but not often enough to know how to use them properly, which is probably the worst of all worlds. The other day he was angry at his Nintendo DS and is shouting “THIS THING IS STUPID! IT FUCKS!”
I was in another room snickering.
I am a bad parent sometimes, but I swear my kid is the best kid ever.