You can’t swing a dead cat on a mommy blog without coming across the inevitable “LOL! Look what a mess my kid made!” snapshot. Hell, there’s even an entire website, called  Sh*t My Kid Ruined. The whole site is basically just an outlet for whiny ass parents to complain about kids expressing their inate creativity or in my case, self-preservation. Exhibit A: Here’s a picture my mom posted on her old website. In it, at the tender age of two, I had just spilled an entire box of Cheerios on the floor. (I had to get my nutrition somehow… it sure as hell wasn’t going to be from her cooking.)

 

I guess what I’m saying is if I had to sum up my mom (and possibly all parents)  in one word (besides ‘effin’ old’) it would be “hypocrite.” She’s always bitching at me to pick up my shoes, and clean up my toys and fish my teddy bear out of the toilet. (Which happens to be where he takes his swimming lesson but she doesn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about stuffed animal safety.) Yet, when I want to, say eat, on the dining room table, it’s invariably strewn with one of her omnipresent piles of sh*t.

LOL! Look what a mess my mom made!!