Growing up my father would always say to me:
“I don’t know how I survived (insert age here) years on this earth without you telling me how to do things”.
I truly never understood the question; it was quite IMPOSSIBLE that he had been able to do anything without me; after all I knew EVERYTHING! Doesn’t every girl?
Fast forward several decades, that little girl now understands her Daddy’s question because she (I) now finds herself asking her own child how she (I) has survived 42 years on this earth without him telling her (me) how to complete tasks that she (I) has been doing much longer than he’s been on this earth. The worst part about it is that at times his tone insinuates that she (I) is an effing moron.
Momma, you don’t throw the ball like that; (impatient sigh) never mind just let Daddy do it (you effing moron)
Momma, you aren’t supposed to drive with your hands like that! Put them where they belong!
Momma, you can’t play, I want Daddy to play he is better at super heroes! -* For the record, the child does have a point considering last time we played super heroes I sent Batman to the grocery store for tea party supplies!
NO! You don’t put your pants on like that! You sit down to put them on! – (you effing moron)
MOOOMMMMMM, race tracks aren’t twisted! (impatient sigh) Let Daddy draw it! – (you effing moron)
I won’t lie, at first I was a bit taken back by his unwarranted and unfitting criticism; after all I am perfect!
But then I realized -
No! That’s not how you do laundry!
The list could go on….
I now wear my dunce cap with pride!