I need to send a thank you letter to someone — anyone — who may be responsible for two-year-olds and their amazeballs behavior. I need to get it out immediately, especially since the post office isn’t going to deliver on Saturdays anymore. I guess I’ll just address to “Two Years Old”. Here goes:
Dear Two Years Old,
Thanks for making my son bathe in his own food like a pig in mud, which causes him to look, at all times, like he just rolled off the set of Honey Boo Boo.
Thanks for allowing me to spend so much time in the warped and deluded world of two, so when my husband was talking with a fellow IBM’er about the role of a “duty manager,” I had to leave the room because I was laughing so hard.
Thanks for making everything in the world — from dandelions to car door handles to any living, breathing thing — SO interesting to my child, it takes us a bazillionty hours to go anywhere.
Thanks for making my son interested in potty training, yet not ready to be potty trained, so I live in the world of a giggling maniac who runs around the house throwing his pull-ups, grabbing his wank, and then peeing on the floor. Yeah, thanks for that.
Thanks for the endless conversations that begin with “I do,” continue with “I do,” and end with “I do I do I do I do I do, Mommy!” Cuz you know, that’s just super duper fun. Good times, Two! Good times.
Thanks for putting two year olds in this little body that is SO cute that you want to just freaking kiss and hug it all day, and when you approach it with obvious intentions to do so, it pokes you in the eye. I LOVE corneal abrasions. The hospital is fun, fun, fun!
Thanks for making two years olds SO generous — I can’t tell you how I’ve loved all the boogers, dead bugs, and turds I’ve been handed. SCORE!
Thanks for making his nails so healthy that they grow into little daggers every other day, resulting in someone bleeding and crying. Usually me.
Thanks for giving him such conviction! I have never seen someone so committed to putting on his own shoes, closing the doors, or getting himself a drink from the fountain. I once had the courage to try deny him one of these things. Once.
Thanks for making him so thirsty…not a thirst for life, per se, but just a general thirst. I don’t have anything better to do than to constantly get someone water…all…fucking…day.
Thanks for making him fearless, like when he tries to climb the fences at the zoo. Nothing bad can happen in the lion’s den, Two. Nothing!
Thanks for making him so relaxed in the tub. His bowels love to take a vacation. Bath poop is endless entertainment!
Well, that’s it for now. I just wanted to say thanks. I hope you like sarcasm as much as I do. I’ll be back soon to write to your vindictive asshole of a brother, Three.