Karma

Last evening, Shane started acting like the crankiest toddler to ever walk this planet and forced my hand on his head while I was typing something, demanding that I scratch it for him. After a while, when my hand started to hurt and I stopped the scratchies, he threw another fit about me not caring for him. Two minutes later he screamed "SCRATCHIES" again and pretended as if he was dying of an itch. This time, it was his back. Because I wanted the melodrama to end, I obliged but it turned out that he needed me to put my hand inside his shirt and then scratch his back for him. You know what they say about letting people walk all over you? Something like "you can lie down on the floor and let them walk all over you, and they'll still complain that you're not flat enough"? Yeah, that part's just coming. Please keep reading.

After the back-scratchies, he started fussing about and then tried to get comfortable while lying down on our two-seater couch with me on it. He couldn't have possibly accomplished that feat even if I wasn't on it but for some reason, this just had to be done. Finally, with all the limbs and butts hanging out of the couch, his head found its place on my lap while I sat convinced that even taking a breath could kill me. Apparently, it was time for his nap and did I not know that he couldn't nap without head-scratchies? Also, did I not know that I couldn't give him head scratchies with one hand while balancing my book in the other?

Here's the part where you give me the 'Wife of the Year' award or whatever because you guys...I actually set my book aside to scratch his fucking head. It was mostly so that he'd fall asleep and leave me the fuck alone because I'd had enough and was contemplating on shoving some sleep inducing cough syrup down his throat. Picking him up by the ear like a kitty and tossing him out of the window also seemed enticing.

So I set my book aside and started scratching his head. A few minutes later, he started snoring and I removed his specs from his nose. Then slowly, I picked up my book. The minute I opened my book, he opened his eyes and I jumped in horror. HOW? And WHY? Is this what it actually feels like to care for a toddler?

With the way he was looking at me, I felt the need to explain myself.

"I JUST opened the book. Can you please go back to sleep?"

"I know you've been reading ALL this while."

"I swear to God, I wasn't. Now shut up and go back to sleep."

That's when things got interesting for him. You see, Shane gains a lot of pleasure from repeating a false statement again and again till I completely lose my shit. And when I do, he sits down and laughs about it for a whole hour. If I say I didn't do something, he sometimes acts like he's convinced that I did it. And if he notices that his "conviction" is annoying me, he starts repeating the words "But why are you lying?" a hundred times before I hurl something at him. And when I reach my breaking point, he bursts into laughter. It's the single most annoying thing about him.

Anyway, let's just say that I may have pushed him off my lap (and the couch) in frustration last night and he may have laughed for longer than usual about that.

Which is why this morning when my mother started giving a speech about how awesome her son-in-law was, I had to shush her and tell her about last night. What I expected was a little bit of sympathy. What I got was a high pitched "EXCELLENT! You deserve that for all the times you've made us scratch your head and back and thrown a fit about it. And if we ever asked you to return the favour by giving us a head massage, you'd say that you were too sleepy. Finally, it's pay-back time!"

"But...he's a grown man and he sometimes annoys me out of my skull!"

"Well, your dad's a grown man too and he always annoys me out of my skull. The only time it's hard to picture him that way is when you think of his endless patience with you. He never complained while scratching your head and back for hours, and always came up with stories to tell you. But you never returned the favour when either of us asked."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that this is Karma and that you totally deserve this scratchies drama."

I can't tell you how much this sucks. All I can think of right now is that if this is his "Karma" toddler phase, then I'm soooooo not looking forward to his teenage years.


Photo credit: Alex E. Proimos via VisualHunt / CC BY-NC


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