In college, when my roommate was having a crappy day, she would pull out her copy of one of her favorite children's books: Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day; she would then sit at her desk and proceed to read the book aloud (whether or not anyone was in the room). When she was done, she would put the book back and finish whatever she was doing; simply reading the book aloud helped relieve her frustration enough to at least complete her current assignment.
In honor of that fine tradition, I wrote my own version after having a crappy day of my own...
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I went
to bed and forgot to do the dishes, so this morning there's dirty
dishes all over the countertops. When I got out of bed I stepped
on a Hot Wheels car, then I spilled coffee on my new X-Men t-shirt.
 |
| "Oh no, NOT my new X-Men shirt!!!!" |
I could tell it was going to be a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very
Bad Day.
At
breakfast, the toddler got mashed bananas in his mohawk, and the
preschooler spilled yogurt down his shirt.
I didn't even remember to eat breakfast.
I think
I'll go away with The Doctor in the TARDIS.
 |
| Because Weeping Angels are easier to handle than after-meal kid cleanup. |
In the
car, the preschooler kept saying he was hungry, and the toddler kept
fussing for a toy.
I said, "Here's a snack! Here's a toy!"
Neither one even answered; they just kept complaining.
I could
tell it was going to be a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
On
Facebook, people liked my friend's photo of her newly renovated
kitchen more than my picture of a funny Star Trek meme.
The cupcakes
I'm making for the bake sale are too lopsided and glumpy and don't
look anything
like the nice ones in the pictures online. Who
cares about Pinterest
anyway?
 |
| A few (million) more things to be insecure about. |
I
could tell it was going to be a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad
Day.
I
could tell because a family member told me I ought to be more strict
with my kids, while another one told me I needed to loosen up. Someone else told me how I should incorporate more hands-on integrative techniques
to enhance my children's overall development.
They don't even have
kids.
"I
hope lots of complete strangers lecture you when you have kids of your own," I thought to myself. "I hope you spend tons of money getting
lots of overpriced books and videos and toys specially designed to 'enhance your child's intellectual and physical development,' and I hope your
kid ignores every single bit of it and plays with a stick
instead."
 |
| Screw Baby Einstein; this can transform a kid into Gandalf or Harry Potter! |
When
it came time to make lunch, there was plenty of peanut butter and
jelly in the pantry, and lots of cheese and lunchmeat in the fridge...
but no bread and only half a cup of milk.
Guess who forgot to go the
grocery store the other day?
It
was a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
It
definitely was, because for once I was on time to the pediatrician's
office for the toddler's checkup. The receptionist told me
that my appointment was for tomorrow,
not today.
"You'll have to come back at the same time tomorrow," she
said.
"Tomorrow,"
I said, "I'm transferring to the USS Enterprise."
 |
| Because nobody on the show has to schedule an appointment to see the doctor. Ever. |
On
the way from the doctor's office I got stuck in traffic. Our air
conditioner doesn't work and it was really hot and the preschooler
dropped his toy under my seat where I couldn't get it and the toddler
kept crying because the sun was in his eyes and I started yelling at
them both, "We're only five minutes away, I promise, so would you guys PLEASE
JUST STOP CRYING ALREADY!!!"
On
Facebook I updated my status: "I am having a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad
Day."
No one even commented.
 |
| "First the picture, now this. Do my friends even know I exist?!" |
So
then we went to the grocery store to get the stuff I forgot to get
before.
The preschooler wanted to get a cookie. The toddler tried to
grab everything in arm's reach. I tried to get some chicken because it
was on sale, but the manager said they were all sold out. I got a box
of pasta and a jar of spaghetti sauce for dinner instead. If the kids
don't like it, they don't have to eat it.
When
we got home, I told the preschooler to go to the bathroom, but he got
distracted and had an accident.
I told the toddler to stay away from
the DVDs on the shelf; he didn't touch the DVDs at all, but instead
grabbed a basket of my old NES games and dumped them all over the
floor.
I told the preschooler not to mess with the computer, but
I think he bought tickets to ComicCon.
I said: "That's it... I don't want to be the
Mommy any more."
 |
| I'd rather be kicking ass in an awesome black PVC outfit. Can I please do that instead? |
It
was a Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.
There
was whining at dinner time and I hate whining.
There
was fighting over a toy and I hate fighting.
At
bathtime, the kids splashed water all over me and all over the floor, and
the toddler ate some soap.
I accidentally dropped a towel in the
water when I was trying to get the kids out of the tub, and the
preschooler asked me to read The
Little Engine That Could.
I hate The Little
Engine That Could.
 |
| Pictured: torture |
When
it was bedtime, the preschooler couldn't find his favorite toy that
he absolutely HAD to have to sleep with. The toddler wanted his
special blanket, and I stubbed my toe trying to find that freaking
blanket in the dark.
After
I finally got everyone in bed, I went and poured myself a glass of
wine.
It had been a Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.
Then I remembered the Daleks and Moriarty and Voldemort and Bowser
and zombies and Magneto and the Borg and the
Lannisters and I remembered that everyone
has bad days.
