Everyday I am assaulted with pillows, flying socks, and nerf apparatuses.
The games begin with the kids assigning parts. Lyla is the mom or princess... Keenan is the dad or princess... and I am ALWAYS the monster. They spend the rest of the day hiding from the monster, hissing at the monster, fighting off the horrendous, hideously, horrible monster.
"Get away monster!"
I can only guess what they are imagining in those little heads when they attack my leg with an Elmo doll. Am I big and fury... scaly and fire breathing... slimy and drooly? Whatever they envision I am always the enemy.
Just once I would love for them to say...
"Mom today you can be the kind fair maiden who rescues puppies & kittens."
"Mom, you are the patient, loveable fairy who sprinkles happiness wherever she goes."
"Mom you are too beautiful and kind to play a monster."
"Mom you are too beautiful and skinny to play a monster."
Why can't Mike or our big fury dog be the enemy?
OK... I have to go. I was just attacked because they said I ate their phone?!?! Time to go breathe fire.