[Parents Magazine Article] My Memoirs, Age 4

Saturday, August 17, 2013

I was reading my July Parents magazine the other night (before I fell asleep on the couch of course) and came across this article that I found to be hilarious so I thought I would share. I made Seth read it too and he totally laughed, so you know it's funny :)

My Memoirs, Age 4
I may only be in preschool, but I know more than you think.
by JASON GOOD

“When my agent told me that people write memoirs to blame their family for everything they do, I could barely find a crayon fast enough. I'll start by clearing up the biggest misconceptions about me : I'm not hungry and I'm not tired. Seriously, I think my dad only knows two questions. "Are you hungry? Are you tired? You must be hungry. Do you need a nap? Do you want some cashews?" He's like one of my brother's annoying toys that won't stop talking. until you take out the batteries. I have to blast the TV just so I can hear Spider Man over his cross-examination. 
Let me break it down : when I'm hungry I'll try to eat a whole jar of gummy vitamins; you'll say "no" and I'll lose my mind because it makes NO SENSE that I can only have two of those awesome things. Apparently, I can eat all the broccoli I want because it has vitamins, but if I want to stuff my face with just vitamins everyone acts like I’ve lost my mind. I would eat cheddar bunnies instead, but unfortunately my dad scarfs them all at midnight while watching HGTV like some depressed tween. You’re 40, and that’s way too old to eat anything in the shape of an animal that isn’t an animal. Instead of peppering me with annoying questions, you should just turn on the TV. Seriously. When I’m watching television I’m totally Zen and in the moment. Just leave it on all the time. Think about it : you and mom would have more time to tell each other you aren't fat and take naps together. Don't "sleep" for too long though because there are still some things I don't know how to do yet. Here are a couple for future reference :

1. Wipe myself.
2. Be alone for more than 25 seconds.

Whenever I yell for my dad to get me ham or come outside to push me on the swing for three hours, he gets annoyed. It’s either because I refuse to wear sunscreen or that I’m interrupting him from staring at his phone. I don’t know what he’s doing on that thing, but he loves it more than my little brother loves my mom’s boob. It's hilarious when my dad can't find it. He asks me where it is sometimes and I pretend like I didn't hear him because, um, I don't know where your phone is. I love it too. IT HAS A TV IN IT. What's not to love?
Only my brother knows where my dad's phone is because he hides it. That kid is an animal. I’m honestly frightened of him. If he throws one more yogurt squeezer at my face, I’m calling a social worker. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s fun to get crazy with him and tear up important tax documents, but a guy like me also needs some solo time building a Lego tower without a cackling maniac in a diaper going all Godzilla on it.
We have other animals in the house besides my brother. I guess some kinds you let inside and some you don't : dogs, cats, hamsters, fish, occasionally mice. All the other ones have to stay outside. Seems pretty random. I guess it would be weird to have a horse in the kitchen, though, because it's so big. Might be rad to ride it around, but whatever.
We have three cats. There’s an orange one named Oliver who my brother loves to sit on. I yell, ‘Arlo, NO!” but my mom and dad get mad and say, ‘Don’t yell at Arlo!” Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Next time I’ll just ignore him when he uses the cat as a beanbag chair. He's the reason it takes so long to get ready to go out. In the time between saying we're going somewhere, and actually leaving, I could learn to play the saxophone.
It’s chaos, and I think we need some kind of family whisperer. They’re yelling about where the keys are and trying to remember if my brother has pooped or not and where the green sippy cup is and ZZZZzzzzzz – I totally just fell asleep. Meanwhile, I’m standing there…is someone going to put on my shoes? I mean, I can do it myself, but I don’t feel like it right now. Usually I just hang out by the door in one sock yelling, ‘LET'S GO!’ Mom gets crazy and dad becomes quiet and takes deep breaths until she yells at him to help her. Eventually one of them puts on my shoes for me but does it really fast like they’re mad and that usually makes me want to stay home.
So now everyone's crying, which makes mom bust out the lollipops and BOOM! All hell breaks lose. If you thought my dad goes bananas when he gets a text message, you should see my brother when he hears the word lollipop. Dude, you're country didn't just win the World Cup. Relax. Mom gives him one, he licks it twice, then bites it off and chomps on it. I told you he was an animal. Meanwhile, I’m licking mine like I belong in civilized society. he gets jealous and starts crying again, so my dad says, ‘Hey buddy, could you go finish that in the basement so your brother can’t see it?’ WHAT?! Now I’m being banished to the cellar because that spaz can’t control himself around candy? I just stand there, staring at him, slowly licking my delicious lollipop and turning my body away whenever he reaches for it. Then I start running away from him and my mom starts yelling because – STOP THE PRESSES – apparently the WORST thing you can do in the world is run with a lollipop in your mouth. It’s not a grenade, for crying out loud.
It's not like I enjoy doing any of this, but someone has to teach this kid delayed gratification. It's a thankless job being a big kid AND an older brother. Believe me, if you had my family you would be just as exhausted and hungry as I am. Speaking of which, I wonder if I can have another gummy vitamin yet..."

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