Y’all. I know that my mother is a little bit crazy. For one thing, she spends all day saying things like “Scarlette, we do not color on the wall. We only color on our paper.” Which is crazy because, HELLO! The wall is SO MUCH BIGGER than that flimsy piece of paper she gave me (Which I totally saw her pull out of the printer. It’s like, invest in a coloring book woman.) Does she seriously think that single sheet of paper is going to be able to contain my creativity? No. It is not. I have a lot to offer the world via my selection of colors.
For another thing, she puts weird things like spinach in my drinks. She tries to call them “smoothies” but I think we all know that’s ridiculous. Spinach isn’t for drinking. Juice is for drinking. But do I get that in my sippie cup? Noooo. She’s all “You need more calories!” and I’m all “Now you’re just making up words.”
But do you know what that woman did now? She brought a tree INSIDE OUR HOUSE. Trees are not for inside your house. Trees are for outside of your house, in your yard. What is going on here?! I mean, one night you go to sleep and everything is all normal and the next thing you know, you wake up and there is a giant tree in your living room. With LIGHTS on it! She says that it’s a Christmas Tree and so it only lives inside of our house at Christmas Time. I just nod my head at her because I figure that anyone who thinks giant, sparkling trees belong in our living room is a bit off their rocker.
Speaking of which, she moved my rocking chair to put a giant tree in it’s place. Now that’s just not good sense. Everyone knows that rocking chairs are way better than shiny trees. Can a giant tree rock you to sleep? I THINK NOT. This is why I like to stand near said tree and pitifully pout “Rocka chair. Rocka chair.” Just so she really understands what she’s done here.
Then she handed me a ball and told me to put it on the tree. Which is cuh-razy because everyone knows that balls are for THROWING. I tried to tell her that. I was all “BALL! BALLLLL!!!!” and then she was saying something about Orny Mints but she didn’t actually give me any mints and THEN she put those shiny balls on the tree. So I tried showing her about how balls are for throwing and I threw them really good (all the way down the stairs!)
After that she took them all away and muttered something about how she should have seen that coming. But I ran to the door and looked and no one was coming at all. I’m starting to think she is just messing with me.
Here is some more evidence that she is crazy: she bought a bunch of toys and then she wrapped them up in paper and put them under the tree. You can’t play with toys if they are wrapped up in paper, woman! So I unwrapped them for her because I am a good little helper. And also because I wanted to play with that one thing that sings Twinkle Twinkle Little Star when you push it. I flippin’ love that song.
And then Mommy was all “Scarlette! Those aren’t for you! Put them back!” So I tried to tell her about how they were so for me. I was all “No Way! Mine!”
Only Mommy kept insisting they belonged to somebody named Cousins and I know she’s just making that up because that’s the silliest name I’ve ever heard of. So I grabbed the Twinkle Twinkle box and ran off real fast to my room with it because what part of MINE did she not understand? I heard her tell Daddy that probably she should not wrap presents in front of me anymore and Daddy said something about how maybe that was a no-brainer, which I think is his way of agreeing with me that Mommy is crazy cakes.
I’ve got a lot more stuff I could tell you about this Mommy lady. Like how she’s always talking about how great the potty is and how we need to use the potty but then gets really mad when I throw stuff in it. I’m like “I AM using it, woman! This is where I store all my good stuff, like that lip gloss I swiped out of your drawer!” (It wasn’t a good color on her anyways so I don’t even know what she’s all worked up about. I’m like “You’re a winter, Mommy. You can’t pull off orange undertones, even if it DOES work for Taylor Swift.” Does she even read all those magazines she has lying around?)
Anyhow, I decided to write all this down so that I can have a record of all this for when I am older. Except she made me wash it all off the walls so now I have to be real stealth about it. That’s how I found this spot underneath the desk. No one ever even looks here. I know because of all the dustballs. It’s like “Would it kill you to vacuum once in a while, lady?”
Ooh, gotta go. I just saw her walk past with some marshmallows so I’ve got to act real sweet and use the “please” word a lot. This is important business.