I am The Pixie Shtick.
My son really likes cheetahs because they run really fast. So he wants to be a cheetah for halloween. It is impossible to find a cheetah costume that isn’t designed for girls. And like all commercial costumes, most of them are skanky. Grrr life. I’ll just get him some ears and paint his face. He’s awesome, just so you know.
Phx found an old bone in the backyard. Now he thinks he’s Dr Brennan and going to solve a murder mystery.
“This must have come from something. Something must have happened.”
“It might have been a cat that got murdered.”
“I wonder what the murder weapon was.”
The Shtick and Phx are both doing math problems. Phx is doing adding and subtracting problems, and The Shtick is doing taxes.
So two years ago The Shtick dug a big hole in our yard while he was taking out an old tree. Its awesome he took the tree out, but he left the big hole. I have this crazy idea that I want my backyard to be pretty as well as a place to play. I wanted him to fill in the hole, but he didn’t. So I did. Only I was pregnant at the time. Not just pregnant, I was about to have a baby. Only a real woman knows what that means. So I started filling in the hole, and then I had a baby. And then two months later I got back out there and continued filling in the whole. It took a long time, but I finally got my backyard looking okay.
So imagine how I felt when my husband was out back the other week with our oldest son digging another hole. You should no I have little control over what my husband does. Because I trust him, I expected The Stick was digging this hole for a reason. But when I asked him why, he said, “Well, Phx wanted to dig a hole.”
What! You dug another big hole in my yard for fun!
I made him fill it in again. I was upset. But my being upset isn’t what convinced him, I had to give him a complete well thought out argument as to why a big hole in our yard was not acceptable. The reason that got him was that I saw one of my children try to push his brother in there, and it was therefore unsafe. He could understand that. So reluctantly he filled in the hole.
So this afternoon, Phx asks his dad, “Where’s my hole?” And dad says, “Mom made me get rid of it.” I did. I regret nothing.
Then Phx says, “I want my hole back. Next time, don’t listen to mom.”
I can see how much my opinion matters to this family.
Phone: Hi . . . can I talk to your mom?
Phx: No, she's playing dragon age
Phone: (hangs up)