Kids have a knack for taking everything you cherish and transforming it into a gooey mess—your precious free time, your much-needed sleep, even those rare moments of solitude in the bathroom. But let’s be honest, the perks are plentiful.
I’m not referring to the way they help you appreciate life’s little wonders or how they make your heart swell with love. Nope! The real treasure of parenthood? They serve as a 24/7 Get Out of Jail Free Card.
You have the right to assign blame for everything that goes awry, and I’m here to illustrate how I wield this power with my own list of:
10 Everyday Things I Blame on My Kid:
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Slippery Floors.
Partner: “What on earth happened in the bathroom?”
Me: Peeking in, “Geez, her handwashing skills are terrible!” The truth? It was me, splashing water everywhere while washing my face with a dozen lotions—without my contacts—leaving a sink that could host an aquarium. -
Where All the Good Snacks Went.
Partner, excited from the living room: “Is there any of that yummy food left?”
Me, in the kitchen, swallowing the last bite: “Huh?” *Pause* *Swallow* “Oh, sorry, I gave the last one to Ava before bed.” The truth? I’m hiding the empty container deep in the trash. -
Unwelcome Odors.
Everyone: “Gross!”
Me: “Ava!” The truth? I just devoured an entire head of cauliflower for lunch, completely ignoring the digestive aftermath. -
Why I Can’t Attend That Event.
Me, texting because phone calls are for emergencies only: “I really want to be there, but Ava isn’t feeling well.” The truth? My phone is off, and I’m happily ignoring my kid while binge-watching Netflix. -
My Constant Exhaustion.
Me to a coworker, suppressing a yawn while pouring coffee: “Ugh, she kept me up all night with nightmares!” The truth? I’m just propped up in bed, half-watching Netflix and scrolling through social media with bloodshot eyes. -
The Untidy Floors.
Me to friends: “The vacuum scares her, and I don’t want to be that strict mom.” The truth? Taking out the vacuum, emptying the dust container, and moving furniture around is such a hassle. Hence, the quick “sweep and hide” routine works just fine when guests arrive. -
Why My Abs Aren’t Toned.
Me, to those without kids: “Having a child ruins that part of your body forever!” Sadface. The truth? My stomach has never seen a toned day in its life. Even if I attached a muscle stimulator and lived on kale, I’d still be without definition. -
The Messy Car.
Me to a friend in the passenger seat, sheepishly grinning: “Kids are little crumb machines.” The truth? I was jamming to my favorite punk songs while demolishing snacks and tossing the remnants in the backseat. -
Why This Post Is Unfinished.
I decided to take a break from writing to spend some quality time with my kid, who is only this age once. The truth? A nap opportunity popped up, and I took it without hesitation. No guilt there!
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In summary, parenting is a wild ride filled with moments of chaos and laughter. Blaming my kid for the little mishaps helps me cope with the delightful mess of it all!
Keyphrase: Blame My Kid for Everything
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