Archive for the ‘Kids Say the Darndest Things’ Category

I’m sure I’ve written before about the genius who is Amber of http://www.crappypictures.com her insightful and hilarious posts are well worth following whether you are a parent or not, but today she has published the post I’m re-blogging wholesale below, I’m sure that every parent of toddlers can relate.

P.S. she’s got a book coming out, go and buy it from amazon

Enjoy

TTFN

Mr Bunny Chow

(Attention: If this is the first post of mine you’ve ever read you might think I’m one of those bitter parents who don’t seem to like their kids very much. You might even be inspired to say nasty and judgmental things in the comments. Dude. Get a grip. The rest of this blog isn’t like this. Well, not usually. But everyone snaps at some point. This week? I’ve snapped.)  

Jobs.

You know what the best part of having jobs always was for me? Quitting them. Sure, I had a couple jobs I actually liked, the best being an indie video store in college(Bongo Video in Madison, WI – now closed, sadly) but I had plenty of really crappy ones. Glory was found in quitting.

One of my first jobs as a teenager was so horrible and demeaning that I pissed on the uniform* and then returned it in a grocery bag. When I handed the bag over I said, “This job sucks. I quit.”

It was that bad.

So now I’m a parent. People have long compared parenting to having a job. You hear quotes all the time like “the hardest job you’ll ever love” and stuff like that.

Well you know what? Parenting isn’t just hard.

This job sucks. I quit.

Ahhh, there’s the rub. You can’t quit. Ever.

Oh but I daydream about it sometimes. Don’t you?

When I’m at the bottom of the pit of despair (otherwise known as circling the drain)I daydream about quitting. I envision myself walking out the front door, down the front steps and onto the street. From there I hitchhike and somehow wind up backpacking across Spain. There are wildflowers and country villas and all kinds of lovely things. Complete freedom. Alone.

I’ve even gotten so far as to actually walk out that front door. Course I don’t get past the steps. Instead I collapse onto them and cry my eyes out.

Parenting can be brutal.

Endless.

And I try really hard to be a “good” parent. To give my kids attention and respect. But you know what?

Sometimes I just want to tell them to fuck off.

Sometimes, this is what I WANT to say versus what I REALLY say…

 

 

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Oh and those toys that NEVER get picked up? That are covering every surface of my entire house no matter how many times I ask them to pick them up?

Well…

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Sigh. And they still rarely help.

In addition to the “I don’t like you” thing, he also says “Go Away!” all the time.

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And we all know there is nothing worse than a kid who won’t go to sleep.

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The pee denial annoys the crap out of me. (This was age 3-4.5 with Crappy Boy. And currently with Crappy Baby. Yay.)

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And that contradictions thing they do?

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And this happens almost daily…

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He ignores me. Followed immediately by him falling.

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And after all of these things happen in just one day…

Crappy Papa comes home.

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Then I usually hand him something with pee on it.

Some things never change.

 

————

*Yes, I really peed on the uniform. True story. It was a gas station. 

And admittedly, sometimes I do say what I want to say. Not perfect. Especially during weeks like this. Haven’t set fire to any toys yet though. Yet.  

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this guy appears to have just blogged about my life, I guess all three year olds or at least his and mine have similar outlooks on life

Enjoy and

TTFN

Mr Bunny Chow

Spaghetti is totally great, but umm…is this dinner or arthroscopic surgery? “Here’s some delicious hair that you’re incapable of eating!”

Why is it that I can’t eat as many vitamins as I want? If they’re good for me, but apparently more than two will result in liver failure, why make them taste like candy? Seems a little dangerous, no?

The rules of the game Tag are backwards. If I’m “it” I should be the one being chased. That’s all. It’s not really a joke I guess, but sometimes I just bleed truth up here.

I don’t get clothes. It’s the 21st century and we’re still using zippers? I want to talk to the manager. Or is it by design that I won’t be able to put on my own coat until I’m 45 years old?

You know what I’m not looking forward to? Shoes with laces.  What is this, the renaissance?  You’re gonna want me to TIE my shoes on? I’m not Robin Hood.  Or should I start jousting too? THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH VELCRO.

The bathroom. Basically…no. Why exactly would I sit on a hard cold seat that’s like 100 feet off the ground when I can just go in a diaper while watching TV? That way I can help Dora find the wishing crystal AND crap at the same time. It’s called multitasking.

Here’s an impression of my dad:  (deep dorky voice) “Ok, no more screen time today, buddy!” as he stares at his phone! Whatever happened to parents setting a good example?  On the count of three, I’ll put down the iPad if you turn off your phone. Oh, no deal? Thought so. I usually turn it up after that just to teach HIM a lesson. It’s a two way street, my friend.

I think we can all agree that the vacuum cleaner is an evil beast, right? STOP TAKING ALL THE FOOD I LEFT ON THE FLOOR. You assume I’m not planning on eating that Cheerio next to the bookcase? I might not want to today, but you’d rather it sit uneaten in the belly of that electric animal? I thought I wasn’t supposed to waste food. Plus, I know it stole that plastic ring I got from the machine outside of Best Buy.

ARLO OUT!

(Drop the mic)

oh dear oh dear where has the month gone.

I promise I’m still alive I’ve just been looking after the boys and ignoring all of you lovely people in the blogosphere, just goes to show how much of my writing was done in those forgotten things they call luncheon breaks.

Anyhoo, I’ve not killed them and most of the laundry is getting done and I’ve only resorted to McDonald’s a couple of times.

So ignoring all of that dullardness that is being a house husband I have a few things to catch up on like the fact that I’ve launched a Facebook page, Facebook is not my preferred form of social media by any stretch of the imagination. Google+ is the way forward but you’ve got to go where the people are and Facebook is unfortunately that place.

right back to today’s story, its unfortunately a month old now The Monkey Boy having uttered these wonderful words when I unwrapped the Homer Simpson beer glass I’d been given. “Daddy, that’s you on the glass”

I didn’t hit him, honest, it might have crossed my mind but I was too busy glaring at Mrs BC as she smirked and giggled.

sigh………

I promise I’ll make an effort to get back into sharing more with you.

I hope you all had a fantastic festive season

a little Christmas Bokeh

a little Christmas Bokeh

TTFN

Mr Bunny Chow

I’m reporting on someone else’s hearing here although he did repeat it to me later I thought it so hilarious I have to share it with all of you.

The Monkey was at nursery and one of the teachers/nursery attendants/nurses/ladies who look after the kids (dunno what her real title is) Charley decided that she would race him at some jigsaw puzzles I don’t mean to brag about this or anything we’re not talking two or three-piece jobbies either but decent thirty or forty piece puzzles. Still the race ensued and my little Monkey Boy thrashed her hands down. This is not the best bit though. Upon completion realising he’d won he uttered the wonderful “I am a genius Charley”.

It wasn’t a fluke either, feeling shamefaced and not just a little embarrassed at having been whupped by a not quite three-year old Charley sealed her humiliation by declaring that hers was too hard and that they should swap puzzles. Lo and behold my angelic, smug faced little Monkey Boy beat her again and said “it’s ok Charley because I am a genius”

He must have his mothers brains because I still have mine.

It must be wonderfully refreshing to be able to be so forthright and smug without the guilt that later life instills in us at being better than others, victory was his and he rubbed it in, I am very proud.

Three days left in my life as an office worker, they are dragging a tad….

TTFN

Mr Bunny Chow

Another classic of the logic of a nearly 3-year-old.

“Daddy my arms sore” why is your arm sore my darling? “Because it’s hurting”

you just can’t argue with that sort of logic

have a great weekend

TTFN

Mr Bunny Chow

These are all plausible reasons why my nearly three-year old might be screaming his lungs out at any given time, this list is not exhaustive and any wants can be swapped for doesn’t want and vis versa.

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  • He has no yoghurt
  • He wants purple juice
  • He wants monkey yoghurt
  • He doesn’t want purple juice
  • He has the wrong trousers
  • He wants Pirate Scooby Doo
  • He has the wrong top
  • He wants elephant yoghurt
  • Someone’s mentioned a shower
  • Someone’s mentioned the Hoover
  • The dog licked him
  • He’s tired
  • He wants a wirrel yoghurt (squirrel)
  • There’s a cat in his bed
  • He wants his farmer coat
  • The Bug (his little bother) is wearing his clothes
  • He wants his wellie boots
  • He wants Scooby Doo on my phone (you tube)
  • He’s not tired
  • There are car seat monsters
  • He doesn’t want to go to school
  • There are monsters in his room
  • The gate is locked
  • He wants blue juice
  • We’ve attempted to wash his hair
  • He wants medicine
  • He wants Fireman Sam
  • He doesn’t want medicine
  • He wants a plaster
  • Ethan called him a little boy
  • He wants digger juice
  • He doesn’t want Santa
  • He wants to sit on the naughty step
  • He wants Mickey Mouse
  • He wants his Mickey Mouse top
  • He wants Pirates (Jake)
  • He wants a story
  • Sit with me Daddy
  • The Bug hurt him
  • He doesn’t want to get out of bed
  • He wants other one socks
  • He wants ebra yoghurt (Zebra)
  • He wants Baby Scooby Doo (A pup named Scooby Doo)
  • Shhhh!!! The Bug is sleeping
  • He wants a hedgehog yoghurt
  • He wants other one yoghurt
  • He wants to watch Race Cars (Disney Cars)
  • He wants to watch other one race cars with daddy (Formula1)
  • He wants his pillow
  • Don’t want duvet
  • He wants Winnie the Pooh one bed sheets
  • He wants a biscuit
  • He wants to ask Mummy
  • He wants toast
  • He wants other one noonoo on his toast (any type of jam or sauce, started out as Nutella)
  • He wants Scooby Doo pasta
  • He wants his picture taken
  • He doesn’t want to go in the pram
  • He wants a Daddy cuddle
  • He wants a Mummy Cuddle
  • He wants to cuddle That One Bug
  • He wants to ask Nanny (Grandma BC not an actual Nanny)
  • He wants other one Scooby Doo pasta. (pre-cooked in a tin vs normal pasta shapes)
  • He wants red one cheese
  • The Bug has something he wants
  • He doesn’t want presents
  • He doesn’t want a smack bum
  • He wants that one cereal, no not that one cereal other one cereal
  • He wants to sit on his potty
  • He’s itchy
  • He wants to wear sandals in winter
  • I don’t understand what he’s asking for
  • Mummy said no
  • Daddy said no
  • He doesn’t want to go on the slide
  • His bum smells
  • He wants an animal one nappy (diaper)
  • His finger is hurting, why is it hurting? because it’s sore Daddy
  • It’s been snowing
  • He wants Cat-Mouse (Tom and Jerry)
  • The cat took offense to him collapsing on it
  • He has to go home.
  • He wants to sun on.
  • He can’t find his…….
  • He wants fish fingers
  • He wants me to pick him up
  • He wants to stand on The Bug
  • He just wants to
  • He wants the music on
  • He wants Pom Bears (nasty reformed potato snacks)
  • He wants Mouse cheese
  • He wants his Mater toy
  • His balloon popped
  • Don’t want Pooh want Tigger one
  • Because he can
  • Daddy stood on his foot
  • He has to brush his teeth
  • The bath tap is running
  • His food his hot
  • Because there is no point in being two and eleven twelfth’s unless you can be terrible
  • He wants two biscuits
  • He picked his nose too hard
  • He bit himself
  • Daddy cut him while clipping his finger nails
  • He has to go to the doctor
  • It’s morning
  • He’s lost the power of speech and I have to guess

That will have to do for now

TTFN

Mr Bunny Chow

I wasn’t witness to this one personally as Mrs BC drew the short straw last night by virtue of the fact that she didn’t have to work today (using up holiday time to go Christmas shopping)

still when it was reported to me this morning I thought it more than worthy of a post and a virtual medal for Mrs BC and her strength of character in not capitulating to his demands at three in the morning.

When The Monkey boy awoke at 01:30 this morning it was with demands for juice, then at 03:00 his demands were slightly more amusing.

“Want Daddy cuddles” to which the response was “Daddy’s sleeping my Angel” which was followed by the next logical response “Want wake Daddy up Mummy”

As I said Mrs BC is amazing and just put him back to bed, she’s an amazing woman.

TTFN

Mr Bunny Chow

I was planning on using these posts purely for comic effect but I have to report on this one and anyway sod it it’s my blog I can do and say what I please.

after last weeks chaos with children’s lurgy induced stay at home dad before I’m supposed to be a stay at home dad the return of the boys to nursery and me to my penultimate Monday in the office was a little rushed this morning and as such I probably didn’t handle or deal with this utterance with as much excitement or deference as I should have done at the time, in fact I think my response to Mrs BC when she pointed it out to me was something along the lines of “that’s nice Dear, but we’re late”. This has weighed rather heavily on my mind all day and I’ve realised that I’m a complete arse and should instead have lavished said child with praise and adoration.

What can I say, I’m a prize arse who’s not much good with mornings, especially mornings when I’m running late.

I hear you cry from the peanut gallery “what was this darn utterance from your progeny?”

I stress again, I’m a total arse, who should be strung up by his short and curlies by the gods of karma.

Todays utterance came from my youngest and was quite simply “Dad”

God I’m a prize arse.

He’s been babbling for some time now and we’ve had plenty of “mamamamama’s” and “dadadadadada’s” but this was quite clearly “Dad”.

I cannot wait until the end of next week when I remove myself from the rat race and can properly dedicate my heart and soul to my dear sweet innocent boys to the extent that they so rightly deserve.

Sometimes we just have to slow down and consider what’s important in life, would it really have mattered if I was two minutes later for work? No not really, I’m the boss anyway and even if my boss who’s not been in today had queried it, what was he going to do, fire me?

Sometimes in life you do things you wouldn’t dream of doing if you thought about them.

I really hate myself today.

What an arse I am.

TTFN

Mr Bunny I’m an Arse Chow

I’m hoping that this will become a semi regular mini series with its title pinched from the genius that is Bill Cosby and the idea from the twitter feed Sh*t My Dad Says 

Mrs BC and I were awoken at 03:09am this morning by an unholy amount of screaming initially from The Monkey Boy and followed shortly by the bug.

I of course leapt out of bed and dashed to the rescue with absolutely no kicking or prompting from Mrs BC to find The Monkey Boy standing at the top of the stairs with tears streaming down his rosy little cheeks.

My sympathies of course clouded in fug of sleep, I still managed to ask the poor traumatised little tike what was wrong to hear the words, “Stood on the cat Daddy” now why he was wandering around the house at three in the morning to stand on the cat is unknown and with the whole household now awake, and at least two of them screaming blue murder it was time for a yoghurt party, yep you’re reading that right Mrs BC and I both had to get out of bed and feed these sweet little angels yoghurt at three in the morning to placate them before they would go back to sleep.

Today’s caffeine intake has been high.

TTFN

Mr Bunny Chow

P.S. any thoughts on the snow now falling down the blog page (only available via the main site www.mrbunnychow.com)