notes on parenting

I know people who think I have the happiest baby on the planet and I will give you: yeah, probably 95% of the time, he's a charmer who will *PLINK PLINK* his little hazel eyes at you and flash you a six-tooth grin that will melt your cold, dead heart. But oh christ on a pogo stick: that other five percent. You know, when I take away the cell phone (mine), the laptop (also mine), the flip camera and every other electronic device that is too expensive to be thrown to the hard,hard ground because HA HA HA THAT IS FUNNY, MADOO OH GOD YOU TOOK AWAY THE CELL PHAAAHHHHHHHWWAAHHHHHHHHH THE PAIN, THE MISERY I'M ONLY ONE AND MY LIFE IS OVERWAAHHHHH. Yeah, that five percent of the time. I guess you should also count the times when I TOUCH HIS FOOD for a second time after only touching it for the first time because I had to put it on his tray, but which apparently, is totally not necessary because you ALREADY TOUCHED IT ONCE MADOO AND NOW YOU MUST NOT TOUCH IT AGAIN or I will claw at my face and commence the screaming while throwing my food to the hard, hard ground. Also included in this wee little five percentarooney is time spent in checkout lines where he is displeased because he is not allowed to eat the Eyeglass Repair Kit the store has so thoughtfully provided at toddler level. You know, because one year olds break their reading glasses all the damned time (I'm guessing from throwing them to the hard, hard ground). I, Hopper Augustus Hovland, would like to EAT THAT EYEGLASS REPAIR KI--NOM NOM NOM WAAHHHHHHHH OH MY LIFE IS AWFUL, WHY CAN'T I EAT THE DELISHUSH EYEGLASS REPAIR KIWAHHHHHH.

Yeah, Ok, maybe SIX percent..