The Twilight Zone.

By Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Yesterday was a weird day. I stayed in my pajamas until 3 o’clock, and thought about cleaning my house. The only thing I got around to doing was organizing my spices; turns out I’m out of oregano.

It was odd for my children too. Freya came downstairs shortly after getting up asking if she could use the iPad to dance. I said “Sure, just don’t watch any videos“, my standard response. Five minutes later she came back downstairs and said “Mom, the song I put on said fuck, but just only once.”  I tried really hard to keep a straight face and could only muster “Put on a different song.”

Another uneventful hour passed, the girls were upstairs playing and I was busy thinking about how fucked up my house was when Malone came downstairs.

Malone: Uh, mom, I’m not tattling, but Stella’s playing with her figurines and they’re swearing at each other.

Me: So, you are tattling. I will talk to her later.

Afterwards, when I had decided rather than clean my house I should organize my spices, Malone called me upstairs – she was super excited to show me her room. When I walked in, I was instantly struck by the smell of nail polish, “Did you use nail polish?” She ignored me and said “Look what I did!” She had moved her double bed, which mildly impressed me. It was what she showed me next that left me speechless.

Malone: Mom, I painted my bed, see the polka dots.

Me: What? What?

Malone: I saw it on Pinterest.

Me: Did you use those metallic paints (as I’m pointing to the open box)? They’re not washable.

Malone: Sorry mommy. I really like it though.

Me: Malone, you just can’t paint your bed!

Malone: I also used sparkle nail polish on the electrical outlets. I need more nail polish. I saw that D.I.Y on Pinterest too.

Me: No, you don’t. Stop with this stuff. Malone, I don’t know what to say right now. I need to get the paint off the bed.

It was at that moment that Stella came walking in.

Stella: Hi, mom. What did Malone do?

Me: Painted her bed. Stella, get ready for tennis please.

Stella: Sure. So mom, my fake sister that is a figurine, was saying stuff today. Like, not my real sister, but my fake figurine sister.

Me: I understand Stel. Great.

Stella: K, it was a pretend fake sister that said something. One of my figurines said her sister was a real bitch.

Me: Oh, ok. Um, Stell, that doesn’t sound very nice.

Stella: Yeah, the fake sister is mean, so she said the other one was a bitch.

Obviously I was backed into a corner at this point. I had one daughter D.I.Y’ing the shit out of her room – when is she surfing Pinterest? The other one is nonchalantly telling me about her potty-mouthed figurines. How am I supposed to respond to this shite?

The day ended with a drive out to the country to swim at a friend’s house. As Stella and I were getting out of the car she remarked: “Mom, see over there? That’s where I saw the black cow humping another cow, then he got off her and humped another one.” I just kept walking. I wasn’t in the right space to discuss horny cattle.

As I write this, I feel like it sounds made up. It’s not. What the fuck was everyone on yesterday? Thank god I cleaned out my kitchen cupboard though.





1 Comment
  • Wlm
    August 23, 2016

    This is funny!!!

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