You may think I’m some sort of sociopath. To this I reply, 1) You may be right, and 2) I’m not crazy, I just have children.
For every dumbfounded “I don’t know”, each whiny voiced cry, every broken household item, and any spilled beverage, sticky candy, or unidentified goo found under the car seats, we will have our revenge. They will get paid back for the stains on our walls, the broken furniture, and any ruined electronics destroyed by their sticky or slippery fingers.
When I spend unnecessary hours of my life repeating the same things over and over again, only to have my children completely forget what I just told them, I can take comfort in knowing they’ll get their just desserts.
It’s okay my children have the attention span of an amoeba. (Check that. I could tell an amoeba to stay put and I think it would do it). Trying to get a child to hear and remember something is like trying to correctly fold a fitted sheet, but it doesn’t matter. It will all work out in the end.
When one of our children starts crying at night and refuses to go to bed because their sister has their “favorite” bear, which no one has laid eyes on or played within in the last 6 months, but all of a sudden it’s become their most prized possession in the entire UNIVERSE, (purely hypothetical example, I assure you), I can rest easy knowing some day these children will get their comeuppance.
My wife and I are at peace. Though we be tired, tortured, frustrated, and yea, sometimes even dirty, smelly, or broke because of the tiny people we live with, we are at peace. We know ultimately justice will be served. Why, you may ask? Where is our source of comfort in the midst of the storm of child-rearing? It is knowing that one day they will have children of their own who will act the same way they are acting right now.
One day their children will say “I don’t know”, “I didn’t do it”, and “What/Huh/Why” over and over again. One day they will have children of their own who will swallow pennies, require them to go the emergency room repeatedly for stitches, and cry uncontrollably for no reason whatsoever.
Bill Cosby once said mothers curse their children saying, “I hope one day you will have children who act the same way that you act.” The curse works. Children are emotionally immature and intellectually stunted. They don’t know why they do the things they do, don’t listen to the things you say, and can’t remember why hitting their sister in the face with a bat is a bad thing, (another hypothetical).
They are also little sinners who are selfish, arrogant, and rebellious. They are desperately in need of the Law of God, (which I’m happy to provide), and the Love of God, (which I’m not so good at giving sometimes). They need the Grace of God to change their hearts and show them their need for a Savior. Then again, so do I.
It’s okay I have to deal with people with no common sense. God is using, (I trust), the trial of parenting to mold my wife and me into godly, patient, and faithful people. “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28). And we also know our kids will eventually have to deal with children of their own. (Insert evil cackling laugh here).
Oh yes, their time is coming. My revenge will be sweet.
One day I’ll be a grandparent.