Good Morning Vietnam!

Alright , I know that I have been bragging to you about my happiness- well hold on partners I have a bit of bitching to do. Yes, I am still blissfully happy, but don’t get me wrong, I don’t actually wake to birds chirping, heavens opening and sun shining on my flawless face. I still wake to a toddler standing at the top of the stairs- screeching to rival a hyena’s mating call “Mooooommmmmyyyy!!!” Good Morning to me. My face is far from flawless because after the half a bottle of wine I talked myself into the night before, de-masking seems pointless. There for when jolted into awakeness I look like a member of Kiss. Some mornings do read like a Folgers commercial. This morning was not one of those mornings.


This morning whining was what was on the continental breakfast menu at Chez Slightly Irrational- and no it was not me whining. Little Man was on a mission to make me insane- even more so that most mornings. It began with changing. Whhhyyy? Whyy do I need to take my clothes off and put on new ones? Because. Why do I need to go to school? So that I don’t harm you. Why can I not finish my show? So Mommy doesn’t harm Special Agent Oso. I don’t want a granola bar. Perfect that means I can go another day without grocery shopping now get in the car. Why? So that I can bring you to school and make this whining go away before I harm myself. WHERE DID I LEAVE MY COFFEE?

Minutes later- more minutes than necessary, we are at the car. I pick Little Man up and get him into his car seat. But I wanted to get in all by myself. Too late. You wanted to do nothing other than drive me insane a minute ago and now you are all of a sudden an over achiever?

Whining takes a sudden turn. Whining has stopped and turned into a full speed scream. This scream differs from the screech at the top of the stairs that began this wonderful morning. This Scream has more juice. Little Man has more energy and his scratchy voice has been coated with milk therefore oiling his throat up for intense ear piercing shrills. And I am in a vehicle. I have others lives as well as my own and my sons in my 2 hands that are gripped to the steering wheel. I realize the danger that I am delving into operating a vehicle under such stressful conditions but my options are limited. And so I pull out of the driveway.

Go back! I want a Granola bar! Dear Lord- I know I only talk to you in situations similar to this but please listen to me and answer my prayers. Give me the strength to not drive head on into an oncoming Mac truck. Give me the patience that I have been begging for, for years. Let an alien land its space ship in front of my car and remove the area in my son’s brain responsible for whining, screeching and bratting. I want a granola bar from home!

I want to go home and start this dreadful morning over. I want to wake up in a 5 star hotel. I want there to be no whining on the menu at this hotels continental breakfast. I want there to be Bloody Mary’s instead and I want my angelic three year old who is missing the section of his brain responsible for whininess since his recent alien abduction to bring them to me in bed.