As you know (or maybe you don't, so let me tell you!) I am a foster parent. Yep, a do-gooder, extra special, moron able to leap stacked blocks in a single bound, wipe snotty nose at the speed of sound, and just stupid enough to let this placement drag on and on and on and on and on and on...
Last spring I wrote a little blog (on another site) called, Why Mothers Drink. Here is small sample:
For the last several weeks I have been the honorary referee in the Whoville National “Kill Your Foster Mother through Your Constant Arguing” Championship. I must admit, my money was on KK the Destroyer, weighing in at 27lbs. This 21-month-old hails from Rock and Sock Em, Oregon.
She has, just this week alone, taken a fistful of her sister’s hair and shook her like a dog - twice. KK has taken every “good” toy and hidden them. She has found the Dr. Seuss books make wonderful weapons and that she can launch any toy into the air and smack her sister dead on the head. Between you and me, I’m thinking major league baseball might just be in her future; that or pro wrestling.
And in this corner we have Zoë-Monster, weighing in at 30lbs. She joins us from Bruiserville, OR. Z is the current world champion of whining and has just recently won the gold belt for repeating every question 3,000,000 times in one day. She brings to the ring a devastating pairing of verbal skills and pouty face. In preparation for today’s event she spent most of yesterday teasing her sister by offering a coveted toy, than snatching it back before KK could actually grasp it. This, in itself is amazing, considering that KK the Destroyer, better known as “Crabby Claw” possesses super-human reach and speed.
Let's flash forward to today, a mere eight months later:
KK the Destroyer is now a healthy two years and five months old. She is currently NOT napping in her bedroom. She still loves to torment her sister, but has also developed a new verbal passion. Whether you are animal, vegetable or mineral, she will, at some point during the day tell you to SHUT UP. Seriously. Only it sounds more like, "s'up"
I have never been in favor of mouthy children. Especially mouthy children who are not mine. See, it's illegal to spank other people’s children. They call it, "assault". It's a nasty little word, which depending on the charges, will net you 2 to 6 in the state pen. Those bright orange jumpsuits are so unflattering, aren't they? Not to mention all those carbs they feed you in the cafeteria. Nope, I think I’ll be keeping my paws to myself.
Then there’s the Z-Monster; bright, funny, blondie girl who just turned four. She’s still in possession of her championship belt for the whiniest girl alive and has added to her trophy case by winning the, I Can Scream Louder than You Can, competition which took place in Shriek, MS last month. You can catch a glimpse of Z-Monster on ESPN next week as she competes in the Tearless Crying Competion for Most Sympathy which will take place in Mercy, AK.
Her favorite food is sugar. White sugar, brown sugar, cane sugar, beet sugar, it doesn’t matter as long as it rots your teeth and keeps you flyin’ high. She abhors green beans, green peas, and carrots, but for some unknown reason, she likes broccoli. Go figure.
After a recent baptism at our church she was heard to say,
“Dem take dem and lay dem down in the box and then rinse them off.”
On a rainy afternoon,
“It raining in my brain.”
And just last night,
“But I love marshmallows and I want to eat them like a pig evee day.”
Life in Whoville just got a lot more interesting too. My FIL just got a puppy. Which he kenneled in the kitchen, right above the Destroyers and Monster’s bedroom.
“S’up Oggy!” screams The Destroyer.