Worst Mom Ever: PROOF

How can a child who makes you laugh so hard one minute, turn you into a raving lunatic the next? I'm beginning to think it's a gift. Just not for me.

Megan is being stretched this year to read one book every month. Approximately 10 pages per day during the school week is what's expected. Each month there's a different genre to read, and this month is Mystery, so naturally I suggested a Nancy Drew book.

Um ... mistake? Let me go ahead and solve that mystery for you: YES. HUGE.

When is the last time YOU read a Nancy Drew book? They're worded so ... so ... old fashioned, for lack of a better term. I never thought anything of it back when I read them, and Amanda didn't seem to be bothered by the 1940's vernacular, but Megan isn't feeling it. AT ALL.

So that means that we (Henry and myself), have been reading with her every night, to make sure she understands what she's reading.

Last night did NOT go well. (Sometimes I wish I were a truck driver or drunken sailor {no offense} so that I could use some more colorful words to convey just how NOT WELL it went.)

The evening started off fine enough, but after "dinner" (Do microwaved chicken nuggets count as dinner? Don't answer that.) I asked Meg if she wanted dessert before or after we read? She stated that she didn't want dessert, because she was still hungry for regular food and therefore wanted a snack.

Me:  Okay, what would you like?

Meg:  Peaches. PLEASE tell me you bought PEACHES.

Me:  Sorry, I bought produce at WalMart last night, and they didn't have any peaches. We have apples, pears or frozen berries.

This was not what she wanted to hear. So I listed half a dozen other snack suggestions, all of which were shot down because, "You never buy anything good!" And on and on she went.

Guess who was in NO MOOD to be criticized by a 10 year old after a long day at work?! THAT'S RIGHT. So I told her I'd heard enough, and that she could go find something herself.

From there things went from bad to worse at ludicrous speed. Since there was nothing good, in her opinion, to eat in the house, and she was done putting me in my place as far as grocery shopping is concerned, she decided we might as well get to reading. Only there was a tiny problem with that: I NO LONGER WANTED TO READ WITH HER. EVER. She'd successfully pushed every one of my buttons, not once, but TWICE, and I WAS DONE.

I told her I wouldn't be reading with her, because she'd made me too mad and I had no interest in reading while I was so upset.

She didn't get it.

So she proceeded to hound me until I actually heard myself say, "You need to STOP. I am NOT going to read with you. If you continue to bug me about this, I'm going to start YELLING at you." Seemed like a fair warning to me.

She continued.

So I YELLED. A LOT.

She continued. SERIOUSLY?! 

So I yelled another warning, "YOU NEED TO STOP AND LEAVE ME ALONE OR I AM GOING TO PHYSICALLY HURT YOU!!"

CLEARLY this child has never had a severe enough spanking to be concerned about such a threat, because she KEPT ON BADGERING ME TO READ WITH HER!!!

It was then that I fled (read: power-walked) from her and into the laundry room where I locked myself in and texted Henry that he best be home ASAP if he wanted to remain a family of FOUR.

It was a VERY LONG 25 minutes in that laundry room, because the ENTIRE TIME I was there, Meg was texting me:

And after about 40 of these texts, I received the grand finale. 

Are you ready? 

BEHOLD:

That's right. Just when I thought the night couldn't be salvaged, and that I'd be in that foul mood for all eternity, she texted me a photo of MYSELF with the words, "WORST MOM WHO WOULD NEVER READ TO ME!!!!"

Oh my WORD. Is that not PRICELESS?! What a KEEPSAKE!!

I fully expect to see it hanging in our Post Office by the weekend.

GO ME!!