So, omigod, we in the U.S. are now in election season, there continues to be great poverty in the world, both domestically and abroad, and inner city kids still can’t read or write. Also, in case you haven’t noticed, the price of gas is exorbitant. And North Korea is being ruled by a mad man’s son who may or may not be madder. Furthermore, Rihanna’s lady-beating boyfriend won a Grammy.
In other just as important news, The Hunger Games the movie is taking the world by storm, global warming IS real, and what about the goddamned polar bears?
Also, yesterday, I found out that it just isn’t that hard to travel from here to Cuba. What up, Embargo?
I have so many feelings.
And yet? I can’t seem to move beyond the fact that my 6 year old is killing me softly.
My angry young man.
I mean, why bother watching CNN, when I’ve got a rising star cross-examining negotiator in my midst?
“But why can’t I have my new airplane now?”
“I told you why. 5 times. You can’t just cry until you get your way. I mean, you can, but you’re not gonna get your way. Unless you cry for like an hour straight. Then, I may cave just because I can’t tolerate the noise.”
“Ok. But what if I’m like the best listener ever for the rest of the day? Then can I have it?”
“I told you, if there are no fusses, no no’s, and you rock your listening ears, I’ll give you the plane before bed tonight.”
“But that’s not fair! If you give me the plane before bedtime, I won’t be able to play with it!”
“Good point. Then maybe I’ll wait and give it to you in the morning.”
“No!!! I want it before bed!”
“Then stop fussing and arguing and go play.”
“Alright.” (Dramatic pause.) “But can I have my plane first?”
It’s like talking to a damned child.
Truly.
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