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Nothing Comes From Nothing

I think I must have been evil in a prior life. You know that song from The Sound of Music that goes, "Nothing comes from nothing"? (I know, this really does show that I'm over-the-hill as my kids insist.) In this life I've been pretty good, pretty boring, heck, even pretty perfect -- just ask my mother! OK so, she probably won't remember, but take my word for it. I did well in school, have tried to be a good mom and a good wife. I haven't murdered anyone... yet.

Allow me to introduce the cast of characters in my life.

My husband, whom I like to call the Original Obnoxious One, insists that he is even more perfect than I am or ever was. Unfortunately his parents are no longer with us, so I can't verify his story. I have strong doubts though, since our teenagers totally take after him and not me.

For example, all the other kids in my neighbourhood are perfect. You know, they're the ones who get straight As, are stars of their sports teams, are leads of their school plays and volunteer at the soup kitchen five times a week. Instead, I have two teenagers who make my life challenging, interesting, terrifying and frustrating as hell. I call them the Demon Child (16-year-old girl) and the Obnoxious One (18-year-old boy).

The Demon Child thinks I should be at her beck and call 24/7. When I'm in the kitchen busy doing something VERY important (like answering emails or scrolling through Facebook), she phones me on her cell phone from her bedroom upstairs and says, "Mom, I'm hungry. Have you made my lunch yet?" To which I reply, "I'll get right on that Your Majesty."

As if!

AND "Mom, I need you to drive me to the mall NOW so I can meet my friends."

Sure, I love to spend my life chauffeuring you around. It makes me feel so special. And by the way, don't worry about not saying please or thank you.


"Mom, I'm having six girls over for a sleepover tonight. Do we have any good food in the house?"

Where do I start... "The fridge is full of healthy choices darling, and tonight doesn't really work to have kids over, because your dad and I have plans to go out for the first time in six months."

To which she responds, "Mom, you're so selfish. How could you do this to me?!"

Meanwhile the Obnoxious One tells me, "Mom, I have a Man Cold. I know you can't relate because I'm SO sick, much sicker than you've ever been in your entire life, but can you buy me some medicine so I'll be better soon? I need to go party with my friends later tonight."

A Man Cold -- really? Plus, it's so great to see where your priorities are.

To round out the mix, we have a 10-year-old female lab, Killer -- you only need to worry if you are allergic to her terribly loud snoring and farting -- as well as a seven-month-old male lab called Franklinstein. Franklinstein is fond of chewing and licking and eating dog poop, but not necessarily in that order.

Maybe I was an axe murderer in a previous life. Really!

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