First, a warning: Kids are a threat to your mental and sometimes even physical well-being, people. I know that now.
Don’t get me wrong, I love kids. (Shout out to my nephew, Timothy!) I worked as a summer school teacher in a nearby preschool for two summers; I used to babysit my younger cousins and I’m a Sunday school teacher.
But that kid in church who keeps shouting at the top of his lungs, who, when arriving to church with his soft-spoken parents, goes straight to his aunt and yells, “iPhone!!!!!!!!” and actually gets the phone? And who, I might add, always ends up sitting next to me because his aunt usually sits two seats away from me? Him, I most definitely do not love. Him, I kind of sort of a little bit dislike. With a passion.
Also, for the past couple of months, I’ve been tutoring this 4-year-old girl to earn some extra cash. Every Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I’d go to her house and teach her how to read, write and count. While she’s been slowly learning how to read, she’s also been pretty difficult to handle. I sometimes find her mildly terrifying because it’s like she knows we’re in “her territory” and so she can do anything she wants without me being able to scold her. But she has never pulled out a stunt as ballsy and provoking as she had during our most recent session.
Yesterday, she decided to stop listening to me. She stood up from the table, crossed her arms and told me, “Don’t come here anymore.” I like to think that I took after my dad, who’s a disciplinarian, when it comes to handling kids so I looked at her and told her in a very firm tone to sit back down which, until then, has been very effective. But seriously, my 22-year-old self felt a little bullied when she said that. Instead of sitting back down, she walked further away and just stood there and shot me a death stare. I am neither joking nor exaggerating. That kid gave me a very real and definitely convincing death stare. I crossed my arms and looked at her, figuring that maybe the silent treatment would work but, of course to make this story more interesting, it didn’t. We literally stared at each other for about half an hour until the time was up and I had to leave.
I think I lost that battle.
So here I am, telling all of you that 4-year-olds may possibly be the death of me. With the first kid, because his parents might kill me if I suddenly snap and knock him unconscious one of these Sundays when he’s screaming in my ear. And with the second, because she might just actually kill me.
And if it isn’t obvious enough, yes, that knocking the kid unconscious bit is a joke so please don’t report me to child protective services.
I conclude this post by saying to all you moms out there, I figuratively bow down to you, literally salute you and just wholeheartedly virtual hug you for taking, whether willingly or unwillingly, the scariest profession of them all – motherhood. Anyone who says otherwise is either a misogynist (which is SO not cool) or an idiot (which is SO not cool… for them, but maybe a little entertaining for us).