One of my adorable cherubs declared today that they were sick and tired of sharing a bedroom.
I promptly responded with, "no problem!"
"I am right on top of that Rose!"
My breath of fresh air smiled excitedly back at me.
"Really?! I can get my own bedroom?!?"
"Yes of course!" I answered, beaming with joy.
"When?!" she asked excitedly.
"When you land a job and move out!" was my animated reply.
This answer was not as amusing to her, as it was to me.
But herein lies the truth of parenting.
It lends itself to an overabundance of sarcasm.
And this is where I have a crown.
I have fought for the accolade.
I am the Queen of sarcasm.
Yet, after all these years of living under my care, some of my kids still haven't realized it.
I school them on the daily.
The Cynthia School of Sarcasm.
Like when one of my children is giving me a problem, I love to respond with, "thank god the ad got answered in the paper."
"What ad?" they will ask curiously.
"The one I had taken out about putting you up for adoption on craigslist!"
I continue on with, "a nice family out in Utah answered, and said they would take you!"
"We arranged for the transfer to happen next week" I say with a smile.
"They seem lovely. They already have 6 kids, and you would make lucky number 7!"
No matter how many times I use this line or a myriad of others, they still look at me with a sense of fear that I have really done this.
That I have pawned them out like a gold bracelet.
Sold them down the river quicker than a gangster who is being interrogated.
And I find it hysterical.
Or maybe I am just the meanest mom ever.
Either way it gives me a giggle.
And isn't that what life is all about?
Finding levity?
Well, it should be.
Especially during a goddamn pandemic.
As far as I am concerned, in these times, ANYTHING GOES.
Oh, and put away that gavel, because I am not going to be judged for this.
Try it.
You'll see.
Xoxo,
C.
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