Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Why?

Just wondering..

Why are my kids so conspiratorial? If anyone in my house can't find something my son's first remark is always "someone took it." And he says it with an, "I can taste cat food" scowl on his face. Like we're going to make the bastard pay when we catch up with them. My daughter is very much the same. Every few days her mother will be horrified by the wild, poorly-raked-haystack-hair that her daughter is exhibiting and will threaten her with brushing it. What follows is a twenty minute search for the hairbrush. At the beginning of which our daughter and son will storm about the house furious at whichever sonofabitch stole our hairbrush.

Why do both my children become so mental after 4pm every night? Yes I know and understand all about tiredness and hunger. But generally that manifests itself in a different way. So irritability, moaning or a sense of crass injustice that is wholly undeserved. But my kids are like werewolves at moonlight every day at 4pm. It's as if some innate and inexplicable primal event occurs and they are victims to it. Like when cows/goats (I forget which) can sense an earthquake and climb trees (nb -: check this information before publishing as it is possible that cows do not climb trees and in leaving this in you'll look a complete pillock). Anyway - 4pm hits and both my kids suddenly start running around demented. Either chasing, running or violently dancing around with no apparent end-destination in mind. After many years of demanding that they calm the smeg down they've taken that on board and started chasing, running and dancing at me. It's maddening and often gets on my very last nerve at the end of a long day. Take yesterday for example. I'd let the kids know that their mother would not be home until almost 7pm. I'd done that so that they'd know that - but more as a pleading to not go insane tonight. Which failed spectacularly. By 4.30pm my son was chasing me around the kitchen screaming, "Daddy has a tail!!" Ten minutes later his sister and he were angrily threatening to "break it off" if they could grab a hold of it. Absolutely mental.

Why does it seem as if every thing my wife teaches the kids always end up involving a story about genocidal death? And not in a grim, miserable manner of indoctrinating the kids to loathe anyone who lives on the other side of the Gaza Strip crossing point (regardless of which side you start from). No - it's more nefarious than that because my wife can start a cheery conversation about anything and it result in a flat, factual statement that a lot of death occurred. For example two nights ago a nice cheery reading of an illustrated bird book turned quickly to their mother naming various species of birds and then factually repeating like gun fire, "we killed them" and "we killed all of them too". Which makes it sound like our family is solely responsible for an avian massacre. Somehow my wife seemed to think that just regaling the kids with a constant stream of "we annihilated htat species" cheeriness and joshingly pointed at a certain page in the book and genuinely said, "Ah - this is different. We didn't just kill them.- We interfered with them." I categorically deny any knowledge of this.

Why does my son insist that a strawberry is a raspberry? He's learned so much information. He's learned to harness and direct many of the cognitive and perceptual powers of the mind. He's learned to pretty much master the physical limits of his body. His grasp of numbers, the alphabet, rudimentary problem solving and small engine repair is exceptional. But he simply refuses to take on board that the oatmeal he eats is strawberry flavored. I've told him repeatedly that it's not raspberry. But it's the only situation where he doesn't emotionally fight me when he thinks I'm just wrong. He just ignores me completely and repeats that his raspberry oatmeal is tasty. It's such a calculated, serial killer-like waving-off of the facts that it has to be deliberate. It actually reminds me of this episode of The Twilight Zone where a scarring implant is put on people's foreheads to tell the rest of society to ignore their obvious existence entirely. Oh he knows it's strawberry - but he refuses to admit it. 

Why are my kids so stereotypically backwards? It's as if they've watched excessive amounts of naff American network television sitcoms and imbibed all the cheesy jokes about butch girls and effeminate boys and are acting them out for my benefit. For example - my son simply couldn't start his dinner the other night without his fetching blue sparkly headband. Then - after I put food on the table - my daughter started to run off. When I asked why she leaving she just grunted, "Poo Daddy." Which I think was her answer and not just a pet name she has for me. 

Why am I the only person who seemed to see the enormous irony of having school kids wear a billboard that says the below on the last day of a fortnight where they learned all about the importance of eating healthy, nutrtious food?


Why is every single show on PBS television this morning (the day before Thanksgiving by the way) the Christmas episode? Isn't that blatantly the wrong time for them? It reminds me of the laughably mistimed broadcasting of an Al Roker food show from a few years ago that was aired in the last week of October. My daughter at least thinks the timing is innapropriate. Probably due to her mother's very adamant assertion that if anyone bypasses Thanksgiving for Christmas then they should be spayed.


Why did I forget to mention yesterday that my daughter invented a meal time known as a Bronkey? Which - as you may have guessed - is when you eat breakfast with a monkey. I did suggest that you could also do it with a donkey (do your worst Google...) and was told that was ridiculous.

Lastly - why can't I stand children's singing? I watched my daughter's kindergarten class sing a few songs yesterday at a school event. Parents were smiling, taking videos and filled with the warmth of seeing their kids perform for them. I genuinely feel pain when I hear a room full of children sing in that clumsy monotone - with the one child completely out of tune and tempo with everyone else and just screaming the words. It may be this Sean Lock messing about that finally nailed it for me. But I feel actual shame for watching my own kid sing (if that's what you can call it) with 35 other kids and wince and laugh through the whole thing.I have video but it's huge. I might put it up later but honestly that means I'll have to listen to it and I don't know if I can.

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