Perpetually Peeved

Revenge of the Mom

As mentioned here on numerous occasion, Biggie is a torturer extraordinaire.  Elevated from Jr. Secret Torture Agent to full-on, eye-rolling, foot-stomping, back-talking Secret Torture Agent once she officially turned 12, this girl is a handful.  Which is why, when the school newsletter came out with an article asking for parent volunteers for the fall dance, I sent that “I’ll do it” email faster than you can say, “honey, get my shotgun.”  Pass up the opportunity to keep an eye out (or as she likes to say, “spy”) on my middle-schooler?  No way. 

Seeing as I am in marketing, I sew, I throw parties, I make unique invitations, I take photos, I thought for sure I would get assigned a very cool task. 

I receive a response to my email and with much anticipation, double-click to see what wonderful job I am going to be assigned and it’s…. 

wait for it… 

wait for it… 

photo courtesy of


Peeved:  Honey, you know how you told me to sign up for something for that dance at Biggie’s school? 

Mr. Peeved:  Yeah, I think it would be a good opportunity… 

Peeved:  I know, I know, to spy on her, but… 

Mr. Peeved:  … to NETWORK with the other parents, Peeved.  And, to, you know, keep an eye out for boys dancing too close. 

Peeved:  Blah, blah, I got an email back – guess what I get to do for the dance? 

Mr. Peeved:  Decorations? 

Peeved:  No, the freaking concession stand. 

Mr. Peeved:  [insert 2.5 minutes of belly laughs here] How did you manage to get assigned the ONE THING you can’t do? 


Never one to let a wonderful opportunity pass me by, I decide to make the most of this.  You know, when life hands you lemons, make limoncello. 

Hey, if it's good enough for Danny Devito, it's good enough for me!

Overheard in the car on the way home from school yesterday: 

Peeved:  So, Biggie, you know that dance at your school this fall? 

Biggie:  Yeah…? 

Peeved:  Guess who’s going to be there. 

Biggie:  Mom.  You are NOT going.  Mom!  No! 

Peeved:  Yep!  And, guess what the best part is? 

Biggie:  This is not even funny.  You will ruin my life.  This is NOT a good joke.  Mom.  Mom! 

Peeved:  Oh, yeah, baby – concession stand! 

Biggie:  Wha?  How?  Huh?  Mom.  Mom!  MOM!  NO!!!! 

Peeved:  What’s the matter?  I’m just going to stand around and say, “HAWT DAWGS, GET YER HAWT DAWGS!” 

[Please imagine I sound like the lovechild of Delta Burke and Robert DeNiro after it has been dropped on it’s head a few times.] 

Biggie:  AAAAAHHHHH!!!! NO!!! SHUT UP!!!  MOTHER!!!!  NO!!!! 

Smalls:  Yeah, I’m gonna go too.  Mommy, can we dance there? 

Peeved:  Oh shawr dahlin’!  We’re gonna give away the hawt dawgs and dance to GaGa… “ga, ga, awl awl la la, ga ga, bad roooommmaaanncee…” 

[Insert dancing of the Elaine variety.] 

photo from

Biggie:  No.  Mom.  You can’t do this.  You will ruin my reputation. 

Peeved:  Aw shucks honey, I just wanna go enjoy myself.  Maybe sell some hawt dawgs and see that cutie guy you like – what’s his name again?  Connor?  “CON-NER – is that you dahlin?  Biggie just raves about how cute you are and ain’t she right… don’t you wanna come go ga ga for Ga Ga with me? ” Ga ga – awlalala… 

Biggie:  Mom.  No!  I don’t even like him anym… you have to be kidding.  You’re kidding right?  [hyperventilating]  Oh my… no!  No! No! No!  You. Will. Ruin. My. Reputation. 


You know what I learned from my 12-year-old?  Tenacity.  I kept it going for another hour or so – horrendous accent and all.  Back at the house: 

Peeved:  “Hawt Dawgs!”  Oohh Lordy, child!  Know what I’m gonna wear?  Your mama is gonna look so purdy!  I have just the thing. 

Smalls:  Oh, yeah, I’m gonna look pretty too, mommy.  Can we wear dresses? 

Peeved:  Bet your britches we can, sugar! 

Biggie:  No. You have to stop.  Don’t talk like that anymore.  I need to call Friend.  Why is Friend not answering?  You are going to RUIN MY REPUTATION!  You understand that, right? 

Peeved:  ga ga ow la wawl… 

Smalls:  cha cha bad romance…  come on mom, let’s ruin her reputation!  [insert mini-Elaine dance here] 

Peeved:  Oh yeah Smalls, get down! 


Peeved:  Ta da!  Sweetkins, doesn’t mommy look purdy? 

Biggie:  AHHHH!!! NO!!! WHAT ARE YOU WEARING????  [door slam – in the bathroom for rest of evening] 

Peeved:  What’s the matter sugarbottom? 

Biggie:  I’m holding a funeral for my reputation. 

Smalls:  Yeah, ma!  We ruined her reputation!  Seriously. 

I had changed into this dress and put my hair up Peg Bundy style: 

What?  It screams Ga Ga to me.  


Yes, revenge is sweet.  Now, pass me my limoncello!

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