Hold on, I have to put on my oxygen mask

Hold on, I have to put on my oxygen mask

Just sit tight. I’m having trouble breathing and I need to figure out how to get some oxygen to my brain and a bit of blood to my appendages.

Your book report will have to wait.

I understand it’s due tomorrow.

Practice saying these words: I didn’t get to finish my (board game, mobile, newspaper, papier mache, main character sculpture, big scene diorama) book report.

Because my mom says she can’t breathe right now and the teacher is going to have to take a fucking number if he wants something from her.

Yes, you have permission to curse. It’s in context.

If you get sent to the principal’s office, tell her to fuck off, too.

Barbie can wait one more day to have her head put back on.

No, she won’t die.

Because she has no soul.

Now go brush your teeth.

No, I haven’t paid you your allowance this week.

Because I had to use the money to buy wine. And an oxygen mask. And some more wine.

Now go brush your teeth.

The field trip permission slip can be signed tomorrow.

I know it says due Wednesday.

Tell that teacher she can kiss my late, brown ass.

When she tries to send you to the principal’s office, tell her you are grieving for our deceased chocolate-colored donkey and that she should be more compassionate.

No, I haven’t signed you up for (soccer, baseball, tennis, basketball, Ultimate Frisbee, the Pokemon Tournament, futsal, the Minecraft convention, the SAT, school tours, therapy).

Yes, you’re right, it’s because I don’t love you as much as I love your siblings.

Get over it – favoritism is a thing.

Now go brush your teeth.

No, I haven’t made your lunch yet.

Because I like watching your mood degenerate from low blood-sugar.

Add it to my To-Do List for tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the day after that, and the following day, and the next day…oh, sorry, yes, you can go brush your teeth.

I hear your frustration about the delay in processing your order for new tennis shoes.

Please enjoy the music while I transfer your call to the Department of Fucks Not Given.

The hold time is excruciating, but someone will definitely answer your phone call, and promptly disconnect you.

In the meantime, I will be putting on my own oxygen mask and trying to take deep breaths.

Now go brush your teeth.

 

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