For what you might be asking. For that oh so coveted position of Mother Of The Year of course. I’m usually still in the running for a couple of more months before some heinous unthinking act by me ruins my chances for the year. Today was my day for a quick decent into the depths of the parental abyss of atrocities. I had the gall to take away Super Girls brand new rainbow colored Barbie DVD remote thingy. Oddly enough earlier in the evening when the Tiny Terrorists had ignited my ire by getting the bathroom floor wet while bathing and I had punished them by making them take out the trash in my bathroom (yes, be forewarned, don’t leave my bathroom floor wet or you too will have to take out the trash in there – and believe me that’s just NASTY!), but THAT had not taken me out of the running. Not even my serving them a fabulous dinner of Italian chicken with pasta and zucchini and squash (which they mostly refused to eat because it wasn’t macaroni and cheese or peanut butter and jelly) earned me enough negative marks for me to lose any ground. Taking that stupid gay pride Barbie thingy away sure as hell did though. And OHHHHH the drama. Super Girl did her best wounded and orphaned calf impression and mooed all the way up the stairs and in to bed. For a good 15 minutes after I sent them off to bed I heard that awful barn yard noise and Cabbage Patch yelling at her sister to SHUT UP! It was fabulous.
Well now that I’m officially out of the running I can at least relax a bit and not feel bad about having my kids hold my tequila bottle while I line up shots for my friends or duct taping them to the closet door when I need a night out at the club. If I’m damn lucky I might even manage to kick Brittany Spears ass in the Ghetto Mother Of the Year Award… though I suspect I might just have to get one of my kids addicted to crack to achieve that.