My New Favorite Verb

I’ve started a new hobby.  Or maybe I’ve developed a new psychosis.  It’s hard to tell.  The behavior is still in its infancy.  I’m muttering.  A lot.  I’ve started muttering because I can’t let loose the stream of profanity that’s running around in my head. 

Do you remember that old Bill Cosby routine where the kids are supposed to be getting ready for bed but his wife can hear them upstairs screwing around and fighting?  She heads up there to put an end to the nonsense and hollers up the stairs, “The beatings will now commence.”  When she comes down, all Bill can hear is whimpering from upstairs and his wife muttering under her breath, “Roll your eyes at me, boy, and I’ll roll your head” and so on.  Intersperse some indecipherable swear words in there and that’s me these days.

“What did you say, Mommy?”

“Nothing.  I’m not talking to you.  Why don’t you have your pajamas on yet?  For God’s sake, Sassy I’ve told you three times.  I DO NOT want to see you again unless you have pajamas on.”

Five minutes go by.

“Hey, Mom, why do….”

“Oh My God! Why are you still in a towel.  Go. Get. Your. Pajamas. On.  RIGHT NOW!”

“OK!”  She stalks off to her room.  “Everybody is always yelling at me.”

Five minutes go by.

She emerges from her room naked.  “Moooooo-oooom.  Have you seen my roller skates.” 

My only response is flabbergasted frustration.  And muttering.  It’s the only thing that’s keeping me sane.