There’s that popular saying about insanity that goes, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
So in other words, it means parenting.
I swear, I’ll repeat the same thing to my son all day long and expect him, every time, to do as I’m asking, but he never does. “Don’t touch that.” “Don’t touch that.” “Don’t touch that.” “Don’t touch that.” And he touches it. I know my son is only two, but he already knows most of the things he’s allowed to touch and not touch, but still he insists on touching things he’s not supposed to, and whenever I ask him to not touch it, I expect him to listen. Why? Because it makes sense. If you came into my house and went to touch something and I told you not to touch it, you’d not touch it. But my son…. “Don’t touch that.” “Don’t touch that.” “Don’t touch that.” “Don’t touch that.” He touches it.
The worst part about this is that you find yourself thinking or saying aloud, “When are you ever going to learn?” But this is a saying that cuts both ways. You mean it about your kid, but it could be asked at you, too. “Don’t touch that.” “Don’t touch that.” “Don’t touch that.” “Don’t touch that.” He touches it.
Me to myself: “When are you ever going to learn?”
Apparently never because you’re dealing with a completely irrational and nonsensical little person. In other words, you’re dealing with a person who suffers from insanity, only in this case those people are called toddlers.
Just the other day, I went to go upstairs and sitting halfway up on the stairs was a package of instant, microwavable rice (yes, ever since my son was born, “instant” has become a keyword I look for on food packaging). In what other social environment would you ever stumble upon a package of rice in the middle of the stairs outside being in a house with a two year old?
And it’s only with a two year old, do you find yourself uttering phrases you never thought, as a sane individual, you’d ever utter: “Don’t leave rice on the stairs.” Honestly, it sounds like a lyric from Pink Floyd’s The Wall album.
But what’s driving me most insane about living with an insane individual is the repetition of his music. It’s bad enough to listen to Wheels on the Bus all day long, but what’s worse is when you start humming/singing along with it, like I’m being brainwashed. And the brainwashing is complete when the kid finally goes to bed for the night and you sit down and relax and what pops into your head but The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round, round and round, round and round.
