Like every girl secretly
loves a bad boy, mothers love a crazy kid; they really do! Although I have no
opinion on, or solution to, the best way to deal with a crazy kid, in the
last post of the second series of ideas, here’s how I feel about growing up
crazy: it’s like looking back at the four years of high school.
Situations that seemed
like the end of the world back then are things we laugh our heads off at today—like that one time my best friend got pissed-drunk in the school auditorium, in
broad daylight, in an Islamic country and slept through all of the classes. Fun
times, now. Horrid times, then.
Would I like to go back
and experience all of that again? No, thank you. I’ll pass. Some incidents are
best experienced once and recounted loads of times. It just works best that
way. I’m sure my mom will agree to this, in context of experiencing the sheer
madness of bringing up three absolute brats, in their own right.
So with this I’d like to
thank everyone who came to me with full gusto to recount some truly funny,
and outrageously gory kiddy incidents. Let’s say a little pray so our kids don’t
turn out to be anything like we were. I love you guys.
And, oh, let’s hope they
aren’t too cute. ‘Cause how can you ever scream
at anything that looks like this:
 |
| ;) |
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