06 Feb She’s Sunshine on Crack

You know what irks me?

When Big Daughter wants to buy a new book for her Kindle she is sunshine on crack. ‘Hi Mum, guess what?!’ (gleeful. Like she has news that will transport ME into throes of ecstasy.)

Me. Suspicious. ‘What?’

Her. ‘The latest Rick Riordan book is out! The one we’ve been waiting for. Can I pleeeease get it? It’s only $7.99. Please?’  Exuberant smile. Joy to the world kinda smile. Heavenly hosts sing alleluia kinda smile.

I fall for it. I say yes. We are having a mother-daughter-bonding moment redolent with joyfulness. She is transported into an otherworld of delight. She disappears into her room.

And doesnt come out alllllllllllllll day. If I call her to come and contribute in some small way to our existence on this planet ( like wash a dish. Sweep a floor. Get cereal for a 5yr old.) she doesnt answer. Not until I have yelled her name enough times that it reverberates through the neighborhood. Then she stomps out with a sour face and a growl, “Why do I have to do it? blah blah blah.” There is no celestial smile. No gratitude. No mother-daughter bonding joyfulness.  There is no sunshine. Or any crack.

She reads all day. She reads late into the night. I tell her to go to bed. I know she’s rolling her eyes at me when I walk out. I turn off her bedroom light. I know she’s turning it back on the minute I fall asleep.

The next day, she is a log that won’t be woken. When she emerges from her room, she will spend the entire day being a mean, nasty person who is hateful to her siblings. (and to her mum who was stupid enough to buy her the book in the first place.) I will end up yelling at her a lot.  She will then probably write bad things about me in her journal because I’m a mean mother who is horrible to her. She will go to bed thinking about the wonderful day when she gets to escape from me and read all the books she wants all the bloody time.  And I will go to bed thinking about the wonderful day when she moves out and discovers that she CAN’T afford to lie her a** in bed reading for 24hrs straight. And I will get even more gleeful when I think about her one day having a daughter that will be a book addict with an ungrateful, mean attitude.  (Revenge. It wont happen overnight but it will happen.)

Yeah – so thats what irks me. Which is why when Big Daughter asked with a winning smile, if she could buy some fabulous new book today?

I smiled a smile of heavenly glory.

And said no.

  • You know what they teach you in school about peer pressure – just say no! lol!
    p.s very classy layout you’ve got goin’ on here. xo

    February 6, 2013 at 10:33 pm
    • Yay – you are my very first commentator here on WordPress. Thank you Laura!

      February 6, 2013 at 10:46 pm
  • sylchicop

    Congratulations on your new Blog address. Glad the move was painless. (G)

    Tell Big Daughter to subscribe to Pixel of Ink where she can receive daily e-mails to view loads of *free* e-books available with one click to download to her Kindle, iPad or other e-reader.

    Hugs, Sylvie

    February 7, 2013 at 7:04 am
    • Noooooo nobody tell her Sylvie! Otherwise she’ll be reading up a storm EVERY DAY and we will constantly be at war with each other. Aaaargh. You know of course, that my mother is probably rejoicing at this blogpost because I seem to recall doing the same thing to her a very long time ago.

      February 7, 2013 at 9:28 am
  • Teresa

    Love it. As a mother now myself, I understand all the times my mother said to me “Just you wait. Just you wait till you have a child then you will understand.” And the times she said to me “I hope you have a daughter just like you.”
    And I do. I now have a daughter just like me and now I understand.

    February 7, 2013 at 12:10 pm
    • So true Teresa. My daughter is so much like me it freaks me out. I now have a much greater appreciation for my mother.

      February 7, 2013 at 12:15 pm
    • Dave

      LOL. Watch the “Bill Cosby: Himself” video, if you haven’t already. He says “I hope you have a child just like you” is the Mother’s Curse. You’ll laugh so hard you may have an accident. 😉

      February 14, 2013 at 8:26 am

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