“Actually, I want to sleep in my bed,” says the 3 year old, after I’ve set up the “foldo” on the floor of her bedroom with pillow and blanket to exacting specifications regarding angle and location.
“Actually, I don’t want my blanket on me,” she says, after re-settling her onto her bed, with pillow and blanket, and following specific instructions on blanket flatness and distance below chin.
“Actually, I do want my blanket on me,” she declares, after several minutes of fussing with said blanket to try to make herself into a taco.
“Actually, I want to sleep on the foldo.”
Trying not to yell, I inform her that as long as she stays in her room and has a nap, I do not particularly care where or how she chooses to place her body, but that I am done participating and will be leaving now before I feel the urge to break something.
 |
| "Actually, I no longer feel thirsty, thanks." |
***
“Actually, I’m not sure we made the right choices. I think we should go back and cancel the whole thing,” he says.
We are currently driving home after spending 4 hours in IKEA spanning the 2 year’s old nap time ordering a kitchen that took weeks of planning, while living in and cooking out of a trailer in the yard.
I am grateful to be driving. I keep the pedal pressed to the floor.
***
“Actually, I don’t want oatmeal. I want rice crispies,” she says, as I present her with the bowl of oatmeal I just prepared at her request.
“Actually, I wanted the milk on the side,” she says, three milliseconds after I pour the milk into the bowl to commence the snap-crackling.
How convenient, I think. Now I won’t forget to make myself breakfast, I just get to eat two small bowls of rejected food and I’ll be good to go.
 |
| Day 1: Hey mom, this is awesome! You can just lick salt directly off the ground! Day 2: Actually....[intestinal mutiny] |
***
“Actually, I think the electricity bill must be so high because you are always washing clothes, and doing the dishes. We should try washing the dishes by hand for a month and seeing how that changes the bill,” he says. “And also, just don’t do so much laundry.”
I try, and fail, not to have an aneurism.
***
I break down and spend $100 on a replacement electronic control board for the dishwasher.
Dishwasher, on 1st run: "Sweet! I'm all set now, thanks!"
Dishwasher, on 2nd run: "Actually, no. I'm going to give you the same problem as before, but thanks for trying!"
