Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Oh, What A Beautiful Morning

"What the goddamn hell is going on?" I yelled down the stairs. It's never a good thing when I have to deal with my kids in the morning. School started late today so I didn't have a choice. I suppose I could have gotten out of bed earlier but that's not really a choice.

"Nothing, Fat Man," said my middle son. I feel like Sidney Greenstreet whenever he calls me that.

"Shut up or I'll kill you," I said.

"Let's go outside and play football," he said to my youngest. They went outside as our puppy head butted me in the groin.

"Get the hell away from me," I told her, pouring a cup of coffee. I looked around. No newspaper. I went to the front door.

"Bring me the paper," I ordered my kids. They ignored me and kept throwing the football.

"Someone bring me the paper or I'll kill you both," I said, a little louder, hoping the neighbors weren't around. The youngest one giggled and picked the paper out of the street where it had fallen. It was waterlogged, of course.

"I swear to God, someone's going to die," I said. I threw the paper in the trash and sat down with my coffee, fending off the puppy who desperately wanted to climb in my lap. Meanwhile, my middle son walked in the house and down the stairs.

"You better not have your shoes on," I shouted.

"I don't," he shouted back.

"That's white carpeting," I said.

"No it's not."

"What?"

"It's more like a beige."

I shrieked in pain. "If you come up the stairs wearing shoes, you're dead."

He appeared at the bottom of the stairs with his shoes poorly concealed behind his back.

"Give me those!" I demanded.

"What?"

"Give me the damn shoes!"

I snatched one from him and threw it into the front yard. My youngest started laughing so I grabbed one of his shoes and threw it in the front yard too. Now they were both laughing and the puppy was trying to sneak out the door before it closed. My head hurt and I was having trouble seeing.

The phone rang.

"I've got it!" the youngest screamed, trying to grab the receiver out of my hand.

"Who is it?" screamed the middle child.

"The Cancer Society," I said. "They're having a cancer raffle. I hope I won."

"You're not that lucky," said my oldest.

"Tell me about it," I said.

7 comments:

Mr. Middlebrow said...

Was the raffle prize a case of cancer? (Something treatable, natch.) I can see why you'd be disappointed.

Jennifer said...

Did you have bourbon on your Cheerios this morning?

Brando said...

Snag gives new meaning to "whiskey sour."

teh l4m3 said...

Curmudgeon!

Kathleen said...

I think I need to stop reading this series. Although I suppose once my child is old enough to talk back I will have been able to start drinking again.

fish said...

Snag, my blog buddy Scott once found just what you need: a nice quiet cup of coffee.

rotten mcdonald said...

not every kid is as well behaved as Snag's, Kathleen.