It's Always Been This Way

This has been a strange week.  Not the least of which was the fact that my nine-year-old thought she was starting her period.  Now this is an impossibility because despite her genius, she physically is BEHIND everyone because she was born three months early.  The reason she thought she started her period is because she'd been stressing about "the talk" about female issues that the school was going to give her, which it did.  You know, the last thing I want my nine-year-old to think about is Aunt Flo coming to town.  She should be thinking about Rock Band and The Disney Channel and how boys have cooties.

So it got me to remembering.  I looked back at one of my blogs from the past and remembered a day that let me know that living with all girls was not going to be fun...ever.  So, because it does relate somewhat to what happened this week, and because I'm hungover, you get a blast from the past.  Enjoy.

9/4/05

SO THIS IS WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LIVE WITH FOUR WOMEN.

I knew this day would come eventually. I just didn't think it would come so fast. Who knew a 4 year old could have PMS?

Thank God I was out drinking last night until 5am, because while I was sleeping off a tremendous hangover this afternoon, the shit hit the fan. So my 4-year old, Amaya wants to play a game. My wife Kim says sure. Amaya starts arguing as soon as the game begins. Then her 12-year old sister, Megan, decides to up the ante by playing with a toy made for 3 year olds that Amaya hasn't looked at nor thought about in a good 6 months. Amaya immediately gives up on the game she's playing with Kim and wants to play with that toy. Megan says she's playing with it. Amaya starts yelling. Kim yells back, telling Amaya the game they're playing is over. Amaya starts crying and wants the toy Megan is playing with. Kim yells at Megan, telling her to give back the toy. Megan is pissed. Amaya now has the toy and plays with it for all of two seconds before getting bored. Now the real fun begins.

I guess it's around 1:30 now. Megan wants to go to Target. Sydney, the baby, is upset now because it's time for her to eat for like the 30-millionth time today. She eats more than a shark at a cruise ship disaster. Anywho, Kim tells Megan she has to feed Sydney. While Sydney's eating, Kim looks up and Megan is crying. Kim says, "WHAT IS GOING ON??" Megan says she wants to go to Target. Kim says that she is feeding Sydney, her drunk-ass dad is asleep and there is no way they can go to Target until I'm up. Megan doesn't get it. Kim says to her, (and I wish I was lying but I'm not), "GOD, MEGAN ARE YOU PMS'ing!??!" I know. Anyway, since I've commandeered Megan's room and am sleeping in there, Megan runs off to Amaya's room to cry. Kim finishes feeding Sydney and goes to Amaya's room to see what is wrong with Megan. Megan explodes, saying she can't do anything because of Sydney and everything she wants to do is put on the backburner until everyone else is taken care of and blah blah blah. Kim basically tells her "Tough shit" and that she's going to have to deal with it. Megan crys more. Amaya runs in and says she wants her room and for everyone else to get out. Kim tells her to get out. Amaya says no. Kim says it's time for a nap. Amaya, (now in tears) flees the room, running down the hallway screaming that she isn't taking a nap. Megan picks up another toy of Amaya's as she leaves the room, a stupid-ass beachball that I took a knife to the second I heard this story.

Now Amaya is screaming that 1) she wants the beachball and B) she isn't taking a nap. Kim yells so loud she disturbs my drunken hibernation. She says, "AMAYA! BED! MEGAN! YOU'RE NEVER PLAYING WITH ANY OF AMAYA'S TOYS AGAIN!" Megan starts with the sniffling again. Kim goes to put Amaya down for her nap, and Amaya defiantly sits on her bed, on her knees, as if she's about to be executed. Kim asks her is she going to take a nap. Amaya grunts. Kim says, "What?" Amaya grunts. Kim tells her that she better stop grunting and start talking. Amaya starts crying so hard she's hyperventilating. Kim tells her to stop and go to sleep. That's when I, obvlious to all that has transpired, finally emerge from Megan's room with a headache that only Excedrin Tension Headache can cure. But I'm out. I ask Megan to go to the store and get me some Excedrin, and the second she leaves the apartment, Kim explodes at me, telling me how the last 20 minutes has been the worst of her life and it's all the apartment's fault and if we had a house this never would have happened.

All I can say is thank God I was drunk last night.