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Day 3: My Kids Can’t Not Fight

8:00 my fat son wakes up and immediately whines.  I bring him to my bed and he surprisingly lays down with me.  That lasted about 5 minutes.  I let him get up and go to the livingroom to see grandma and grandpa.  5 minutes later I can hear the fat bastard arguing with the drama queen.  So up I get to restore the peace and keep them separate.  So much for sleeping in.  And the shitty 30 year old spring mattress I slept on isn’t doing anything good for my stupid back.  So I’m up, I’m tired and I’m cranky.  Coffee helps take the edge off.  Sweet diuretic coffee.  French toast sticks for the kids.  There’s 1 meltdown related to seating.  Fucking kids.

 

Breakfast is done.  Grandpa is getting the fishing rods ready to go.  Needless to say this is a point of interest for the mongoloids and they swarm like flies to shit.  Grandpa does well to remain patient despite 8 hands grabbing at things he’s trying to prepare.  I get suckered into helping and remember that this is my least favourite part of fishing.  Fuck putting line on the goddamn reels.  This sucks dick.  Eventually all the rods and reels are assembled and ready to go.  Too bad the old slag Mother Fucking Nature has decided today she wants to show off how fucking powerful her cunty lungs are.  So out of concern for the mongoloids we’re holding off on fishing/boat rides.    Instead we take the kids outside and make them run around like retards for a bit.  The fat one, small one and loud one play on the slide for a bit.  Drama Queen gets an imaginary sliver and cries for literally 20 minutes until i’ve had enough and rip out the fake sliver.  Problem solved.  We had a rare, somewhat peaceful moment by the water until the little one started throwing rocks.  The Fat One had to join in and the loud one and Drama Queen had to up the ante with larger rocks of course.  I put a stop to that shit right quick.  We got them to eat lunch virtually incident free.  Fat One was looking tired so i told him to go to sleep.  Guess what that surprising little fuck did?  HE WENT TO FUCKING SLEEP!  Are you shitting me?  That never fucking happens!  He went to his room, climbed into bed, got under the covers and WENT.  THE FUCK.  TO SLEEP.

 

Nap time also took hold of the drama queen, little one, loud one, the baby, grandma and my sibling.  Grandpa and i sat on the muskoka chairs outside, had beers and pretended the wind wasnt freezing the fuck out of us.  You’d swear these fucks were roofied or something because they slept for fucking ever!  This was the first time i actually felt like i was on vacation.  Drama Queen woke first.  Then Fat One.   Grandpa went into town for beers and charcoal.  The rest woke up shortly thereafter and somehow i wound up on slide patrol lifting Fat One from the ground to the top of the slide and making sure Loud One stays off the end of the fucking slide.  Also because the goddamn wind didn’t die down until fuck O’clock i got dicked out of fishing yet again.

 

Getting close to dinner time now.  I’m still trying to keep the hoarde in check but they are deadset on climbing the sandy hill behind the cottages.  I climb my fat ass up there to see whats so interesting and the fucking monkeys are jumping off a rock and landing sideways on a rocky hill.  Brilliant kids.  I ask whose idea this was and not surprisingly it was Little One.  The most accident prone of the batch.  After indulging them for a few minutes i banished them back to the front of the cottages.  Arguing ensued but i quickly put Drama Queen and Little One in place.  More playing out front and slide patrol once again for me.  Grandma and Grandpa and the Sibling were in the cottage getting ready for dinner and watching the baby.  I propsed a movie to the kids.  Rejected outright.  Undeterred, I gave the 5 minute warning.  The countdown went smoothly until the 2 minute warning.  Little One was sitting on the end of the slide and Fat One decided to slide down anyway and drop kicked him to the ground.  It was funny as shit.  But being anadult i had to make sure Little One was ok.  I reprimanded Fat One and he cried.  A lot.  So i cut off the countdown and put all of the in front of the TV and made them watch a movie.  Dinner is hot dogs, chicken burgers and macaroni salad.  Classic cottage food.  After dinner its time to sort lures other odds n ends my dad bought on kijiji.  Then its likely time for bed.  The alcohol consumption is really wreaking havoc with my ability to stay up late.

 
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Posted by on July 7, 2012 in Family Trauma

 

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