(Irrational) Humans of my house.

I recently turned three. I am officially a threenager. I know everything.
And everything is mine. Even if it’s yours. It’s actually mine.   This is my world, you just live in it.

I strongly recommend that you do not fuck with me. My wrath is very real.
People piss me off. Especially when they tell me what to do. Or look at me. Or talk to me. Or breath near me. Or help me put my shoes on the correct feet. Basically, I don’t like people. Unless those people are caving to my demands. My Daddy usually does. He is my favourite person in the world. Mummy growls at him sometimes.

I like to reason with my Mummy. And by reason, I mean be totally unreasonable. There is no room for discussion. Not even an inch. I let her know my objections with the world by stomping my feet, throwing objects & yelling at her. I don’t ask for help. I just carry on like a screaming banshee until my needs are met.

I made her cry one day. I shit myself.   And then I hissed at her like a snake.
Sometimes bananas are my favourite food. And sometimes I hate them so much I like to scream on the floor while I writher around like a cut snake.
But 20 minutes later, I love them again.

And I want to eat 3. When Mum doesn’t let me, I revisit the cut snake approach.

This is very closely followed by hating them again. Yuk. Get it away from me. NOW!

It’s perfectly logical.

I feel the same about carrots.

Sometimes I feed them to our pug when my Mummy isn’t watching. My big brothers taught me this. They teach me lots of things.

Mummy growls at them for it. But I love them so much. Except when they give me blood noses on the trampoline. Then I scream.

So does Mummy.

I really don’t like having showers. My Mummy has to carry me in there while I thrash around, try to grip onto anything we pass & pretend that I’m going to bite her. I did once. She put me on the time out chair & I felt sad, so now I just pretend. It works though, she always looks shit scared when I do. The only thing I hate more than getting in the shower, is getting out of the shower. I hide in the corner so Mummy has to get wet trying to get me. It makes me laugh. And then it makes me fucking rage. Sometimes I hit the water to make myself feel better. It doesn’t work.
I also hate having my hair brushed. Washed. Touched. Spoken about.
And when Mummy is cooking my dinner I like to make pretend vomit noises. My big brothers taught me this too. I don’t enjoy sharing or saying sorry. I am working really hard on this. But it’s really tough. One day I will get there. That’s what Mummy says anyway.

I call bullshit.

She always gives me lots of kisses & cuddles, I love to climb into her bed & sleep on top of her. She always says she is tired. Personally, I don’t give a flying fuck. Sometimes I even take my nappy off & piss on her. Only because I love her so much.
Sometimes I get a little smack on the bum. But only if I have been really naughty. If you don’t agree with smacking please don’t yell at my Mummy, sometimes I am a nasty little bitch. I know she means business.
And it never hurts.

It just shocks me that she’s stood up to me.

We have lots of fun together. We like to sing in the car. Unless of course I’m having a moment. Then we have to have complete silence. No communication or acknowledgement of each other. I feel angry when she doesn’t go the way that I rudely demand she does. Even though I wouldn’t have a bloody clue where the hell it is that we are.
My world, my rules.. Remember?!

I know how much my Mummy loves me. She tells me all the time. And I can feel it. I hope she knows how much I love her too.

I am the much wanted little girl after two little boys. Mummy & Daddy always talk about not spoiling me, but they are doing a piss poor job of that so far. This is all their fault.

Life is tough. But I’m tougher.

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