Just spent the last two hours in an epic battle that escalated because Barry overreacted to David’s tired pissiness over his homework assignment, which he wouldn’t do after school because he insisted he needed his dad’s help on it, not me.
Turns out he wasn’t satisfied with the help Barry gave him, they had a bigass blowout, resulting in David needing MY help on his homework at 9pm, exactly when I need to get Justin and Alex to bed.
Since I can’t be in two places at once, I asked Barry to take over bedtime duties, but at the first sign of resistance, he folded like a cheap suit. Complete cluster fuck ensued, inmates running the asylum, and I’m dealing with trying to relearn how to figure out least common multiples by doing prime factorization while the wild bunch is terrorizing the dog, and disrupting the homework to the point where I wouldn’t rule out riot police as an option.
And of course a story problem for good measure. If I were a super hero, my kryptonite would be story problems. I’m powerless against them. All you have to say is, “If a train leaves Denver, traveling at 95 mph…” and before you even get to the part about another train leaving Indianapolis, I’d be on the ground in a fetal position begging for mercy.
At press time the homework is finished, but Justin and Alex are on their second wind, in the same bed, giggling up a storm, when if all had gone as planned, they’d have been asleep over an hour ago.
I’m going to a family wedding Friday in Kansas City. Was going to bring Alex to make it easier on Barry. Fuck that. I’m going by myself, and I’m getting hammered.
© Jennifer Alys Windholz, 2011