i have a massive headache. it's COMPLETELY your fault. had my birth canal not grown in order for you to flop out when you were born, it wouldn't be all wonky now, and my hips wouldn't be crooked, and i wouldn't be in such pain that makes me want to cry every day......2 months before and 18 months after you were born....

also? you are driving me out of my mind at work. i end each evening nursing my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that i develop throughout the day.

"nnnnthis! nnnnthis!" you whine pointing at everything. it started out that you referred to my tea as "nnnnthis" because i would say "you want some of this?" and give you a sip.

but you noticed that "nnnthis" gets you whatever you want. DUH. i want to give you whatever you want so you will stop whining "nnnnthis! nnnnthis!" over. and over. and over. and over.

but you want ALL THE THINGS.

and you have no concept of fear. i am trying to instill fear into you. i want you to fear nnnthis. and nnnthis. and nnnnnthat. but NOTHING scares you. you climb onto everything. you pile boxes atop chairs and wobble your way to the highest part of your make-shift mountain. and, if i'm not looking, you steal nnnthis and nnnthis and nnnnthat from my desk. THEN you end up covered in red ink. or milk. or spaghetti sauce. or paperclips. or WHATEVER you can get your sticky hands on.

it's fascinating to watch you. i really promise that it is. it make my heart warm how you weasel your way into and out of everything you can. and you are so nimble and quick that it is usually before i even have a moments notice to grab you before you tumble to the ground. unscathed. undaunted. unimpressed with death defying.....

because you have one goal in mind, well really. many many many goals that all fall under the "nnnnnthis" umbrella...

but all of those things don't phase you. instead they give me a migraine.
i'm fried, dude. totally puffed in smoke.
every day getting home from work i count the minutes until bedtime for you. so that i can have 5 free minutes to myself before i fall asleep on the sofa watching the last of the episode of Yo Gabba Gabba that you left unfinished...you know....because you could care less what happens, and i am dying to know....

you suck out all my energy. i mean come on. if you spent 10 hours a day chasing after someone that repeatedly tried to kill themselves in all kinds of exciting ways....don't you think you would be tired, too?

God must be freakin' exhausted. and....he's a single dad of like. 6 brazillion people that spend their days trying to kill themselves.

but you know what. in all that stress. in all that craziness that is my day trying my best to do my job at the office without making mistakes while i keep 1.5 eyes on you trying to keep YOU from making mistakes....i get home and take a breath and you start giggling like crazy. crazy person giggling. and....

my headache eases just a little bit. and i put off doing the things i want to do...just so i can hear that giggle a few more times before you go to bed and i am left with no one to save.

until you wake up the next morning before i'm ready for you to wake.

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