For about as long as I can remember, I retort with some varient of the following whenever my parents tell me what a pain is the ass I’m being….
There the two of you were, lying in bed all alone. Quiet and peaceful. When suddenly, one of you looked over at the other one and said “Wouldn’t it be grand?”
Well everything that happened after that isn’t my fault. You did this to yourselves…..
So, this past weekend, Sarah and I took Friday off and headed out to my Dad’s house in CT. We had the whole house to ourselves and the plan was just to chill out and relax. It was going to be great.
Yeah well…. Jack had other plans. Apparently, someone put “teething” on his to-do list.
So for the past four nights, we’ve been treated to hours and hours of screaming baby. And what a treat it is. Nothing beats trying to console an inconsolable little person who really doesn’t deserve to be in any more pain ever again, ever.
I mean, it’s really great. It’s way better than say…. not getting out of bed until noon. Or having a giggling contest.
It’s moments like this that make me wish that I’d given my “Wouldn’t it be grand?” speech a few less times, ’cause this really sucks.


