VOLDEMORT IS THREE YEARS OLD. BATTEN THE HATCHES AND MAN THE BATTLESTATIONS.
PICTURES AND MAYHEM TO FOLLOW.
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Blergh
I woke up feeling very yucky, and promptly went back to bed as soon as Brandus got up to wrangle Voldemort.
I woke up when he peeked in to tell me they were going to the playground, and again when they got back home to tell me about the rolly pollies they had found.
I woke up again when brandus came in to check in me to tell me it was 1 o’clock, and he wanted to make sure I wasn’t dead or in a coma.
I finally got up around 1:30, and heck if I couldn’t go back to sleep right now.
And i STILL feel yucky.
Posable
I’m pretty sure that you’ve looked at entirely too many toys for an upcoming three year birthday when you start dreaming in playmobile figures.
Bastards weren’t much help, either.
Fence Sitter
A conversation with brandus:
“Hey, did you hear that Anna Paquin just came out as bi?”
–Seriously? That’s awesome!
“I know! Do you know what this means?”
-Now we can BOTH have sex with Anna Paquin!
“YAY!”
SEE HOW I SUFFER?
About two weeks ago, my preK class got another addition – a 3 and a half year old who has never been in school or daycare or anything before. I feel for him. I do! It’s especially traumatic for him because he has never had to do ANYTHING EVER FOR HIMSELF BEFORE IN THE ENTIRE HISTORY OF HIS LIFE. Pants? Pshew. His mommy puts those on for him. Clean up? PLEASE – he has a big sister to do that for him!
So now, he has come to my class. Where I do not put your pants on. Why should I? THEY ARE NOT MY PANTS. I AM ALREADY WEARING PANTS.
This has resulted in endless crying and crying and crying and some head banging and OMG THE CRYING ENDLESS NOISE MY BRAIN HAS MELTED AND IS LEAKING AND THE CRYING AND THE CRYING.
Now, the crying has now gone on for three weeks, with him crying AT LEAST 3 hours a day, and it has just hit the point where it is now funny.
Why is it funny?
Because along with the crying and crying and omg the endless endless endless crying i hate everything please stop crying i will buy you a pony, he wants you to KNOW that he is crying. He wants you to feel bad for all the suffering you are putting him through. HE WANTS YOU TO FEEL THE GUILT YOU SHOULD FEEL FOR MAKING HIM PULL UP HIS OWN PANTS.
So, he crawls into your line of sight and stares RIGHT AT YOU while he’s crying. If you’re looking the other way, he’ll walk in front of you and flop onto the floor and cry. I’ve never been able to make a child more furious just by turning my head away, or even better, just by CLOSING MY EYES.
Posted in teach me
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