Dinner at our house is always an event, between the wild behavior of the twinkies and the teenage angst of the twins, you never know what meal time will bring. The twinkies never want to eat anything. Jackson always asks me what’s for dinner and then when I tell him he says, “Eww that’s DISGUSTING.” It would hurt my feelings if I cared about his culinary taste. I don’t. Reese usually tells me that he is either not hungry or that he is ABSOLUTELY STARVING. It’s do or die around here.
When they eat they like to do what the big kids do when they eat. For example, they want to cut their food just like sissy and bubby do. I’m not nearly stupid enough to give them knives, so they use their forks and their fingers. Most of the time this means I have to clean up smashed food that has spread all over the table. It’s gross, really gross. I could probably be a better mom and stop them, but I’m at least one glass into the pinot by then and way beyond caring. The stupid dog cleans up the floor mess.
They also like to repeat whatever their sister and brother say at dinner. So, when the big kids call each other douchbags (which happens almost nightly), you can bet the little kids start saying douchebag too. In all honesty, I can’t blame their ocasional potty mouths on just the big twins. Here’s a news flash: I curse. I curse in front of my children. I curse in front of my children and they repeat it. I curse in front of my children, they repeat it, and I blame it on my husband.
It seems like the reasonable thing to do.
While all of that nonsense is going on I have to listen to my big kids talk about the trials and tribulations of the 8th grade. Remember the 8th grade? Drama. I get it all in stereo with lots of arguing. John is convinced that all the girls love him. At the soccer carpool last week I heard the boys in the backseat referring to themselves as men. Newsflash guys: YOUR MOM IS DRIVING YOU TO PRACTICE. Pretty much means you are not men.
My worst fears were confirmed tonight when Taryn announced, over the green bean cutting and the dog slurping, that her brother does indeed have a crush on one of the girls who slept over here on Friday. Ugh. Just kill me now.
I did the only thing that a good parent could do, I told them that I really never liked that girl anyway.