My daughter's name is "Poop."

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Whenever my daughter misbehaves, I have a standard threat.

“You put that crayon down and come here now, or I’ll knock your head off with a shovel!”

Usually it works fine.

Lately though she’s been getting rather willful. She seems to enjoy defying me.

For example, though she’s only two and a half, I have painstakingly taught her her name, her mother’s name, her address, and her phone number. She knows them by heart, and I’ve drilled them into her, and tried to make it fun.

Back when she was just freshly two, and still innocent and perfect she could hardly wait till I got home so that she could sit on my lap and I would ask her the questions, and she would be so proud to answer them.

I’m not sure what’s gotten into kids these days, but my daughter no longer has any respect for me, any responsibility, or pride.

I suspect it’s those damn liberals that run the library play group every tuesday who are to blame, or maybe there’s a bad influence at gymnastics. At any rate, she’s not the same loving daughter. She’s defying me.

Now, when I ask “What’s your name?” she just stares at me and smiles. She has that look in her eyes that says “I know the answer, but I’m not saying.”

So I grab her and turn her upside down and hold her out at arms length and do my patented Tyrannosaurus Rex roar. This used to bring instant compliance, but now she just laughs.

“Daddystinks is a monster.” Did I mention she now calls me “Daddystinks?” Her mother is to blame for that.

“What’s your name?” I put my face right up to hers and give her my meanest look. She just laughs.

“Tell me, or I’ll knock your head off with a shovel! What’s your name?”

“Poop!” She cries. still upside down.

I put her down. “No. It’s not poop,” I explain patiently. “What is your name?”

“Poop.”

“Fine. Your name is Poop. We’ll see if you still like that name in High School.”

She runs off laughing, and refuses to answer all my questions.

So last weekend we’re at the Mall, and she’s getting tired and cranky. For the first time, she inexplicably starts to cry. She alternately wants me to pick her up and put her down, and she starts to cry really loud, and panicky in a way that garners attention.

I figure it’s time we went home.

So as we’re walking back through the mall she starts to scream.

“Let me go. Help me somebody help me!”

I keep walking with her a grim look of resolution on my face.

“Daddystinks a monster. Knock my head off with a shovel! No! Let me Go! Somebody Help!”

So I pick her up, and I start walking out of the mall really fast, because it’s making an embarassing scene. She’s screaming “No! Let me go! Somebody Help me!”

Now, I look a little rough. I’d just run a half-marathon, and was wearing some old jeans and a tshirt. I’m not shaved. I’m giving Mommy a break by taking my daughter to the mall. The truth is I look disreputable, and I’m getting stares.

There’s a moment, as I walk right past Mall security rent-a-cops with my screaming daughter crying for help, when they seem on the verge of making a very bad error. The pimple faced schmuck seems to consider whether he’s going to come and question me, and actually follows me to the door.

Fortunately for all concerned he made the right judgement call.

As soon as we leave the mall, the tantrum stops. She puts her arms around my kneck, gives a big hug, and is asleep before we reach the car.

As I put her still sleeping form in the carseat, I whisper into her her ear.

“You’re going to pay for that, Poop.”

2

Remember back to when you were a small child giving your parents problems? Your mom probley said “Wait till you have children of your own” Call Mom, tell her this story. Stay on the phone till she stops laughing.
“Knock your head off with a shovel” I like that.

3

You must be joking. How can you possibly have the nerve to raise issues about your daughter.

I saw that picture you posted when you ran that marathon last year. You are disgustingly huge. Monsterous, even. And apparently your little girl thinks you stink.

Leaving childbirth aside, you huge monster, how much trouble did you give your parents? Really, cut the adorable little angel some slack.

In closing, I’d like to point out that I am very small and weak, so please don’t pummel me into a thin paste.

4

Children do inexplicable things that their parents will go to their graves not knowing the reasons for.

When she was little, our daughter (now 16) used to walk into a room and announce, “Hello. My name is Junior High School.”

Even she cannot explain why she did this, or what it meant.

Our son (8) likes to say to someone leaving on an errand or something, “Bye, so long, see you in Canada.”

See you in Canada??!!

When asked why, he says he just likes saying it.

5

Booker: My mom never cursed me like that.

Before you say “Riiiiiiiiiiiight!” let me explain. One day, when my now-five-year-old-daughter was about two, she did something that I jus HAD to call my mom & tell her about. My mom laughed so hard that she had to hang up and call me back. I asked my mom if she’d ever put that curse on me. Just asked her right out. My mom’s reply? "No. I never did, on you or your brother. I never did because I never had to. *I just knew all along that you would. * "

I swear that my children (Dianasaurus Rex and Johnzilla) are NOT like me. I could not possibly have been that strange when I was a kid. My mother, when she’s not busy pointing and laughing at me, begs to differ.

I know I was pregnant. I know I gave birth. I know those kids are my husband’s–they look just freaking like him, and they have his musical talent too. But I swear, they are NOT mine. They don’t LOOK like me, and I don’t care what my mom says, they do NOT act like me.

6

When I was two, my parents took me to Disney World for the first time. We were sitting at a restaurant for breakfast, and I was, well, not behaving nicely. In order not to disrupt the other diners, my father decided to take me outside. Suddenly, I began to scream loudly, “DON’T BEAT ME! DON’T BEAT ME!” Imagine their embarrassment, LOL, they had never laid a hand on me. After that I’m sure they wanted to though.

7

Y’all, I was very strange. I’m sure I said strangre things. My daughter is still very young, and the only time she hears me raise my voice is when I’m yelling at the dog.

Though I hope to keep it that way fo ra long time, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that she will do such things as well.

And then, years later, I can tell her to get a job and get the hell out of my house and for that, I am glad!

:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

8

My mom asked us to please not fight, she was only going into the grocery store for a minute. A minute in my mother’s world is a half and hour in everyone else’s and needless to say, my brother and I had picked a fight. Now, we didn’t just fight verbally. We used to hit, bite, scratch, gouge, pull hair, and once, set on fire. A man walking by decided to get into the car and break it up and then sat there until my mother returned. Can you imagine comming out of a store to see a strange man sitting in your car with your two children. Seeing my mother approaching the car the stranger stepped out of the car and explained that he’d been scared that we were going to kill each other and felt he needed to break it up.

Sorry Mom. I’ll behave better, I promise!