There will always be the obvious. Those things that make you angry in parenthood, like lack of sleep and the difficult mood swings that seem to overcome our children on a far more frequent basis than any sane person would ever sign up for. The fact that our happy morning is capable of taking a U-turn to hell at any moment because we picked the rain boots instead of the cowgirl boots is slightly less irritating than the things I am about to explain.
I am going beyond the obvious here. Things you were oblivious to until you had children.
I’ve narrowed it down to two. Out of all the things that could possibly be thrown at me as a parent in my first couple of years so far, there are only two things I can’t handle anymore. Little, stupid, annoying things that exist in life for one reason, and that one reason is to irritate the shit out of already frustrated parents. You think you are at your limit? Well, go ahead and let these things assist you over the edge of your sanity as they’ve done mine.
1) Pulling one baby wipe out of a container, only to receive 50.
There you are in the midst of a diaper change and you realize you have misjudged the amount of wet wipes to free from the container pre-diaper change. Ok, no biggie. You’ve got one hand free because the other is wrangling your toddler’s legs preventing a natural disaster by keeping them still and away from the mess. Using your one and only hand, you swiftly pull a baby wipe to break it free from the package. Instead of a clean break, you end up with every baby wipe from the container in one long inconvenient string of bullshit. A giant…centipede…of baby wipes. What is this sorcery?
2) Plastic tags used for attaching price tags to clothing.
Do you know what they say to keep away from small children? Small plastic objects. It’s not rocket science. Do you know what they put all over your small children’s clothing? An idiotically excessive amount of small…plastic…objects. Those long capital “I” shaped nuisances from the retail gods of hell are enough to send me into a fit of rage. You don’t know the struggle until you’ve opened a six-pack of baby socks or onesies and curse the asshole who bedazzled them so meticulously in plastic. These things could survive the apocalypse. They stick around after loads of laundry and even the vacuum cleaner is no match. These clear, sharp, tiny suckers will still stay hidden in your carpet for weeks. Just when you think they are gone, one will resurface and jab at not only the sole of your unsuspecting foot, but the soul of your inner strength.
As if every day doesn’t present enough obstacles with children involved, these commercial packaging geniuses are sending this mother to the loony bin on the regular. I’m on the fast track to hypertension thanks to you Pampers, Huggies, and person who decided to make a career out of modern-day plastic torture devices.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need more coffee.