Meanest. Mama. EVER!

By Mir
September 22, 2004

Ways to not impress me with your supposed illness: talk non-stop in a low, gravelly voice to demonstrate how ill you are; devour the contents of your lunch bag and ask for more; ask to go outside to play; complain about staying inside; complain about not getting to watch television; later torment your little brother about what little TV you did get to watch in his absence; insist that you feel fine now in spite of how tragically afflicted you were just minutes ago; pitch a screaming hissy fit when you find out that no, we will not be attending “Family Fun Night” tonight on account of–oh, that’s right!–you’re sick.

Things that will happen to you when you’ve executed all of the above and more: television will be taken away; you will complete all work sent home by your teacher plus some extra worksheets I just happen to have; you will find a way to make up to your brother that you’ve been so pissy (writing “OUTSTANDING” on his latest artwork was a clever solution, I’ll grant you that); I will loudly inform our friends on the phone that no, we won’t be there tonight, because you are far too sick to go out, but please enjoy the festivities without us; you will have the first shower and a bland dinner and go to bed early.

Any suggestions on how to delicately word a note to the school letting them know that I’d prefer not to be called unless there is delirium or vomit?


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