Little Rascals

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:

;)