Perpetually Peeved


Biggie, Smalls & a Smart-Ass

BIGGIE

One only needs to look back a few posts to know how I feel about eyebrows.  So, the other day when I noticed something funky going on with Biggie’s eyebrows, I had to get to the bottom of things.

Peeved: Biggie – what the heck happened to your eyebrow?

Biggie: Nothing.  What are you talking about?

Peeved: That – right there.  That eyebrow did not always start almost at the middle of your pupil.  And, the other eyebrow doesn’t match.  What did you do to your eyebrow?

Biggie: Nothing, mom.  Geesh! [eyeroll, foot stomp]

Peeved: [grabbing Biggie by the chin for closer inspection]  OH MY GOD!  You shaved your eyebrows!?

Biggie: No.

Peeved: Well, somebody did.

Biggie: Well, I was in the shower and I was shaving my armpit and I got soap in my eye and when I went to wipe it off I accidentally shaved off part of my eyebrow.

Peeved: You ACCIDENTALLY shaved off part of your eyebrow?

Biggie: Yes!  I had soap in my eye!

Peeved: Well, you are not allowed to shave anymore.

Biggie: What?!  Gosh, mom!  You’re the worst! [eyeroll, foot stomp]

Peeved: Obviously, you can’t be trusted to keep razor blades from accidentally coming near your eyeball.  No more shaving unless you tell me the truth.

Biggie: I am telling the truth!  Don’t call me a liar!

Peeved: Well, what happened to the other eyebrow?

Biggie: Well, I had to try and even them out a little bit.  Am I going to be punished?

Peeved: No.  I think living with those crazy eyebrows will be punishment enough for shaving them.  However, you will be punished for lying.

Biggie: I’m not lying!!!  It was an accident!!

Funny, when I was younger my stepmother always used to say, “Do you think I was born yesterday?” and I would wait until she walked away and whisper, “No, the day before.”  She also said I’d get back everything I ever gave her.  Who’s laughing now?

Who knew shaving your armpits could lead to Lasik so easily?

 

SMALLS

There are many sacrifices we make as we become parents:  the ability to run around the house naked, curse loudly, sit down for an extended period of time, sleep in, and go to the bathroom alone are just a few.  It’s Saturday morning, Mr. Peeved has been sick for the last few days and I have the beginning of a nasty respiratory virus.  All I want to do is sleep in.  Alas, 8:20 brings this conversation to my ears:

Biggie: [in the bathroom]  Get out!

Smalls: I have to go!

Biggie: Well, I’m going.  You can’t go.  Get out!

Smalls: Biggie! I have to go!

Biggie: Smalls!  I’m going to the bathroom.  I need privacy.  Get out!

Smalls: I don’t have to get out.

Biggie: Yes, you do.  You can’t just come in the bathroom when someone is using it.  I need privacy!  Get out!

Smalls: I am giving you privacy.

Biggie: No, you’re not.  You’re still in here.  Get out of the bathroom!

Smalls: Biggie, privacy is when you don’t look at someone when they’re going to the bathroom.

Yes, Smalls, when you have a 4-year-old in the house, that’s exactly what privacy is.

 

A Smart-Ass

My father always tells me I’m a smart-ass.  I always tell him I’d rather be a smart-ass than a dumb-ass.  My nephew, he doesn’t fall far from the Aunt Emma tree.  At the age of three, this kid could tell you the difference between a bucket and a pail.  By the time he was four, he knew what sarcasm was and had perfected his deadpan delivery.  Here’s a text I received from my sister on Friday:

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