I'm going to make an audio recording of myself on my phone, saying nothing but "No (brief pause) because its a bad idea." I'm going to keep it cued up and on hand 24/7 and from now on, I'm just going to play it every time one of my children comes to me with another one of their poorly thought-out ideas/requests/questions, many of which they already know the damn answer to before they even come to me! I have come to the conclusion that this plan is the only way for me to survive through their teen years without completely wearing a hole the size of the Grand Canyon through my vocal cords from the number of times I repeat myself.
And its not just the word "No" that gets repeated. I have to repeat the exact same reason for the answer "No" that they received the last time they wanted to do something ridiculously asinine. And despite the fact that I won't let one of them do it, for some inane reason, the other one will be shocked and amazed that I would be upset at finding them attempting the very thing the other one wasn't allowed to do! How is it that they can get awesome grades in school and get on the honor roll every quarter, but truly and honestly believe that me telling one of them to get off the roof wouldn't automatically apply to BOTH of them? Seriously, people. I'm loosing my ever-loving mind. Because the reasons haven't changed. If it was a bad idea yesterday, chances are its a bad idea today.
There are lots of things I'm sick and tired of saying "No" to repeatedly. And its getting difficult. Its getting even more difficult to say "No" without launching into a caustic, sarcasm-laden rant about the complete lack of common sense that must be overflowing in order for them to even THINK about coming and presenting this issue to me yet again. Those that know me may truly be surprised to learn that it hasn't happened yet. At least not in the purest form that I have previously shown myself to be capable of. I have been known, however, to look at one of the dudes and ask "Are you serious right now? I want you to step into the other room, and seriously THINK about whether or not you want to ask me this, and see if you can possibly predict what the outcome will be if you do, in fact, decide to ask me this." Sometimes, this is enough of a CLUE for him to rethink his request. Sadly, sometimes it is not. And this is where I have been able to demonstrate that I do, in fact, have an inner monologue. I am capable of thinking something and not saying it word for ever-loving word, no matter how badly I may want to. I have compiled a few examples as proof for those of you who may doubt me. I know who you are.
1. Mom, can I wear shorts to school? "No" But whyyyyyyyyyyyy? "Because its a bad idea"
My inner monologue: No. No, no, no, no, NO! You did not just effing ask me that question! Pop quiz - what month is it?! That's right its f@#&ing January, dip shit! Bonus question - what temperature does the thermometer say it is outside?! I'll help you with that one, since there is so much god damn FROST on the window that it makes reading the god damn thermometer difficult. It says 12 degrees. TWELVE. Not even in f@#&ing Alaska is 12 degrees considered "balmy" enough to wear shorts. We have been over this question before and the answer has NOT changed. Guess what, Einstein? It ain't gonna change, either. So, do NOT ask me to wear shorts to school until May. Period. If you do, we will be heating the house during this lovely 12 degree weather with a fire in the fireplace courtesy of every god damn pair of shorts you own. Are we on the same page now?
2. Mom, can I change the channel to Gator-Swamp-Catcher-Hand-Fisher-Moonshiner-Chainsawing-Dirty-Dangerous-Logging-Fisherman-Redneck-Hillbilly Reality Show? "No" But whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? "Because its a bad idea"
My inner monologue: Why? Because you aren't the only member of the freakin' family, you selfish little crumpet! There are 5 of us - FIVE. And, as surprising as it may seem, not all of us what to watch a show about some people who live in a swamp and have no teeth. (No disrespect to people who have no teeth, there are several in my own family so you can understand how I would have no need to watch a show about them. To those who live in swamps, more power to you.) If you are sooooooooo devastated about having to watch a show that is appealing to someone other than yourself, here's a novel idea - you don't have to watch the effing TV at all! Go play with one of the shit-tons of items you so desperately needed to have for your birthday or Christmas! How about that? Now, give me the god damn remote, Dance Moms is on.
3. Mom, Little Dude/Big Dude and I want to make up a game where... "No" But whyyyyyyyyyyy? I didn't even get to tell you what it is! "Because its a bad idea"
My inner monologue: You think I was born yesterday?? This ain't my first rodeo, son. I must be the only one who sees the irony of this moment - you've had soooo many blows to the head and injuries from all the previous bad-idea-games you two have concocted that you don't remember that doing that sort of shit is a friggin' bad effing idea!! Any time you come to me to explain to me a new "game" you want to create, it inevitably ends with someone bruised, bloody, bandaged, or needing a trip to the nearest urgent care clinic or ER. I'm not f@#&ing going to the ER today. NOT. So, NO. You may not do whatever whacked out, crack pot idea is churning up in that little knucklehead of yours. Go read a god damn book or something.
4. Mom, I want a fish/hermit crab/gerbil/guinea pig/2nd dog/..."No" But whyyyyyyyyyyy? "Because its a bad idea"
My inner monologue: Come here. Follow me. I'd like to introduce you to someone. Dude, this is Abby. Abby, this is Little/Big Dude. She is your dog. The pet you already have. You remember, right? The one you piss and moan about having to brush several times a week? The one you fight and argue about whose turn it is to complete the physically draining task of filling her food and water bowls once a day? You know, the one whose shit is all over the yard for you to step in and track into my house when you are playing football in the backyard with your friends, because you just can't seem to find the time to use the f@#&ing pooper scooper a few times a week? The one who its too torturous to walk around the block once in a while? Yeah, the one you wanted and promised you would help take care of and do so much of the work that I wouldn't even know we had a pet? That one. Ring a bell? Yeah. So technically, you already have a pet. And its like pulling teeth with a f@#&ing spoon getting you to take responsibility for her. So no, you may not get another pet. Suck it.
This really is only the tip of the "repetitive No answer to the repetitive questions asked" iceberg, but I feel I've proven my point. I do have an inner monologue. And from time to time, I even use it.
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