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Stop Telling Me What To Do!

It is really easy to take credit for you kid’s natural talents.  I find parents love to tell themselves that everything great about their child was inherited from them, and every thing that is annoying is because that is “just the way they are.”  You don’t hear a lot of “I don’t know where Timmy gets his good looks because I am an absolute hag, but he totally gets his irrational rage and selfishness from me.”

I am no different.  I love attributing myself to everything that is amazing about The Munch, especially her pretty face because come on.

So the Munch is an early talker, and at first I was really proud of this because I obviously thought her verbal proficiency was because of my vast intelligence.  Not only my superior DNA, but also think of all the talking I do in front of her… saying such profound things as “I like your new profile picture” while on the phone.

People would say “wow, she really says a lot for only being 20 months old” and I would act oblivious to her genius so I came off as nonchalant and not a cunt.  But secretly I was thinking to myself that this baby is going somewhere.  And that somewhere was usually to wash her toys in the toilet.

But I have to say, although it is sort of great that Munch is so communicative, it is also slightly ruining my life.  This kid is bossy as hell and does not stop telling me what to do!  (And of course I do everything she says because I am scared of her).

It is quite distracting when it comes to living my life, and I have no idea what to do about it.  She gets especially demanding if I am giving my attention to someone else too.  For instance I was trying to have a conversation with my friend Gita last night and this is how it went.

Me: So Gita, go on about what happened.

Munch: Mama… More apple juice please.

Gita: Well….

Munch: More apple juice please.  More apple juice please.  More apple juice please.  More apple juice please. More apple juice please.

Me: Okay Munch, here is your juice.  Go on Gita.

Gita: He said….

Munch: Where’s my bear?

Me: Gita I am listening.

Munch: Where’s my bear? Where’s my bear? Where’s my bear? Where’s my bear? Where’s my bear? Where’s my bear? Where’s my bear? Where’s my bear?

Me: I don’t know Munch, check the living room.  Sorry Gita, please keep going.

Gita: Ummm, where was I….

Munch: I found bear! I found bear! I found bear! I found bear! I found bear! I found bear! I found bear! I found bear! I found bear! I found bear! I found bear! I found bear! I found bear!

Gita: Oh yeah he said….

Munch: Mama kiss bear… Mama kiss bear… Mama kiss bear… Mama kiss bear… Mama kiss bear… Mama kiss bear… Mama kiss bear…

Where does she get this bossy, demanding, demeanor from?  Oh, by the way, read my blog again and laugh more.  Do it now.  Laugh at all the right parts.  Right now.  Email my blog to a friend.  Do it . Do it.  Do it.  Do it.  Do it right now.  Tell your friends to read my blog.  No. Not later. Right now.  Do it. Do it . Do it.  Do it.  Do it.  Do it right now.