Nothing a Pair of Pliers Won't Fix

Having five teenage kids is some sort of fun when everybody gives them money for Christmas and then the mommy and the daddy get to take them shopping for an entire day. It ranks right up there with having my eyebrows removed via duct tape. In theory it sounds like a great idea to tell all of the relatives to just give them money ... in practice it is hell on the parents. Hours and hours of standing in a crowded mall, holding shopping bags full of bricks that the clerks must give away free with each purchase, trying to pacify the other kids who are tired and gripey while waiting on pretty princess aka Rachel to try on the sixty seventh pair of jeans. Only to have her finally get to the line to check out and then turn to me and announce "Since this line is so long, I think that I will go back and try on that one pair with the holes on the ass cheeks (those were not her exact words, but they were close)". I went into psycho mother mode at this point. I looked the little darling right in the eye and said "get your ass back in that line and pay for the damn jeans that you are holding in your hand". Oh pissy attitude and poutiness aplenty ! Do we enjoy making fun of our children when they act like completely spoiled brats in public and we get to reprimand them for their behavior? Why yes - we do ! We laughed our asses off every time she rolled her eyes and "huffed". It's the little things in life that make us happy. All that we can wish is that she has triplets that act just like her.

As we (me and all of the girls) were strolling through the junk jewelry store, Rachel announces "hey mom - piercing is free". To which I reply, "well that is good to know - what the hell do you think you are going to get pierced". Doe eyes and smiling, she says "my cartilage". Oh yeah - she so needs another whole in her wittle head. "Um ... no .... when you are grown and you move out of my house then you can pierce yourself until you look like a side show freak, but for now just earrings is what you get". I promptly called Derek to report the incident. This ain't my first rodeo with this child. I know how she operates. It was going to be just a matter of time before she tried the doe eyes on dear old dad and tried to talk him into letting her get it done. I was so relieved that he agreed with me. He agreed with me so much that when my son, on the way home from the exhausting shopping trip, asked if he could get his ear pierced. To which my dear Derek replied, "Sure - and as soon as you walk in the house with an earring in, your mother will sit on you while I pull it out with a pair of pliers." Neither child has mentioned the piercing idea again.