The Cupcake

“You really think it’s worth it for a cupcake?”

“Yes. Yes I do. It’s two dollar Tuesday. And this is my last chance to go.”

“Really? I mean ‘really you want to leave the house’ not about the last chance, two dollar thing. I don’t think he wants to go. And he can’t eat a cupcake because of the surgery this morning.”

“He feels better now and if he tears it into little pieces he can probably eat one. If that doesn’t work we can get him ice cream or a milkshake. And they’re really good cupcakes. The bakery won Cupcake Wars. We need to get out of the house anyway. A drive will do us good.”

“Whatever… I’ll go if you pick out their clothes.”

“Quit worrying. It’ll be fine.”

……………………

“What took so long?”

“He was freaking out, screaming and throwing himself to the floor because he didn’t want to go to the cupcake store. I told him he could try it and if it didn’t work we could get him ice cream and then he started freaking out about that.”

“So we’re not going now?”

“No, we’re going. He’s coming out the house. See?”

“You think this is a good idea?”

“It’ll be fine.”

……………………..

“I’m sorry you can’t eat your cupcake, but you have to stop screaming. It doesn’t help anything… No your brother shouldn’t stop eating his cupcake just because you… ”

“Well if we wanted to be fair…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, we’ll save your cupcake until tomorrow and… STOP SCREAMING!! We’ll stop for ice cream. You’ll be able to eat that. You’ll see. It’ll be fine.”

………………………..

“I’m sorry it hurts to… Stop screaming please! I’m sorry it hurts to eat ice cream. Just put… Listen! Stop freaking out and LISTEN TO ME! Just try to put a little in your mouth at a time and let it melt…”

“I guess he doesn’t like that idea… Hey! Don’t be so dramatic and STOP SCREAMING! Do you want me to be so distracted that I wreak the car and we all die a horrible flaming death?!?!”

“Now who’s being dramatic?”

“Whatever. You wanted to ‘go and get two dollar cup cakes‘. This is all on you. You were… SHUSH! ALL OF YOU BACK THERE! I swear if you y’all don’t quiet down none of you will ever eat AGAIN!!!!”

“I wonder where he gets it.”

“…”

“Oh so you’re not talking to me now?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Fine, I’m sorry, it was a terrible idea. Ok?”

“Yep… Well I hope the cupcake was worth it.”

“…”

“So how was it? Was it worth all this?”

“… It was fine.”

Things or Stuff

The baby doesn’t want me to do either of the above.

I’m not allowed, as far as the baby is concerned, to do anything involving anything.

Well, that’s not exactly true. I can sit quietly in the recliner awaiting the moment that he demands the use of my lap for milk and naps. I am allowed to do that.

I’m not allowed to stand at all. That is standing to clean, to cook, to make his highness a fresh bottle, to get up to go to the bathroom, ect..

Sitting is also a problem if while in that position I seem as if I’m accomplishing things.

Excuse me, are you doing stuff? You know how I feel about you doing stuff.

If I do have the audacity to attempt things or stuff I get screamed at for the duration of time those things or stuff take.

If my reaction to the screaming is not sufficient he grabs my leg and bites me until I take notice. I now have no beard due to him exhibiting this behavior during a routine facial hair trim.

I seem to be living beneath¬†the drool covered iron fist of a tiny tyrant…

And there’s nothing I can do about it.