Today we lost an hour to Daylight Savings Time, yet it still feels like the longest day of the longest winter ever.
Sometimes I wonder if my life would be vastly different if I lived in a place with a year-round temperate climate. A place where on any given day I could throw every one of my kids outside and tell them not to come back inside until it’s dark and they’re ready for bed.
I’m going to explode if have to tell one of these yahoos one more time to leave the dog alone, stop climbing on the furniture, stay in bed, go downstairs, get out of my room, put on your underwear, cover your face, use a tissue, stop peeing on the seat, put your toys away, get back to bed, leave Alex alone, put your boots away, stop teasing your brother, stop splashing in the bathtub, don’t climb on the windowsill, pick up your string cheese wrappers, turn down the TV, my scarf is not a dog toy, get off of the table, stop jumping on the bed, get off of the railing, close the refrigerator, turn off the water, quit saying poop, put away the knife, you don’t need another apple, quit running in the house, the door is not a backboard, you don’t need ice, stop pounding on that, get off of your brother, pull your pants back up, hang up your coat, stop calling Cameron names, put your homework in your backpack, stop chewing the erasers off all the pencils, let the dog out, give the ketchup back to Justin, put your plate in the sink, you’re not watching that again, don’t chew with food in your mouth, don’t get water all over the floor, go find something to do, get out of the sugar, don’t use all the Band-Aids, quit kicking the wall, pick the crayons up off the floor, don’t take out every single book, don’t pull Penny’s tail, shut the door, don’t mess with David’s stuff, you can’t ride the dog, go get dressed, get off the dog’s kennel, don’t you dare hit him, I just told you not to do that, go read a book or something, I said your brother could watch that, you don’t need a scissors, get out of the Cheetos, stop it, get down, get off, don’t, I said no.
They’ve turned me into a nagging shrew. And I hate it. Make it stop.
© Jennifer Alys Windholz, 2011