I achieved a whole new plateau of crabbitude today as a result of the two consecutive weekends on the road and having shitty sleep due to Miss O's latest health crisis. Mr. Z and Miss O were both working my last nerve at dinner, gabbing away, not eating and ignoring the shit out of my requests to chill the fuck out. So I actually raised my voice a bit (which, believe it or don't, I am not wont to do) and declared that there would be no desserts tonight and no TV during Miss O's breathing treatments. Mr. Z burst into tears, while Miss O looked at me and said, "I'm younger but I'm acting like the big sister."
Then, during Miss O's TV-watching-less breathing treatments after dinner, she asked, "Why can't I just watch a little TV," and I explained that it was because she was goofing off and she didn't eat her dinner. Then we had this exchange:
ME: You know, there are starving kids in this world that don't have anything to eat at all.
MISS O: You've told me that like one hundred times already.
ME: I know, but it's true. And when you waste food like that, it's really not very nice.
MISS O: Yeah, but how is my food going to help feed the kids who are starving?
MISS O: Are you going to give the food I didn't eat to those kids?
ME: No, but if I knew you weren't going to eat it, then maybe we wouldn't have bought it... and, then those kids... uh... might have... well, they could've... look, just eat your dinner next time, okay?
MISS O: [silence]
Then, when I finally got her up to bed, she asked me to sing her a song. I explained that she had dilly-dallied (yes, I actually use that word... a lot. I'm turning into Mrs. Piggle-Fucking-Wiggle) and therefore, wouldn't get a song. But then I realized I was just being crabby for crabby's sake, so I made up a song:
ME: It's time to go to sleep, Miss O, it's time to sleep right now. So close your eyes and sleep, Miss O, and dream about a cow.
MISS O: More.
ME: Uh... it's time to go to sleep, Miss O, it's time to snuggle up. Relax and get real cozy now, and dream about a--
MISS O: [SHE CUTS A GIGANTIC FART, BASICALLY IN MY FACE]
ME: AW, MISS O?! THAT WAS DISGUSTING! YOU CAN'T FART ON ME WHEN I'M SINGING YOU A SONG! FORGET IT, SONG OVER!
MISS O: [hysterical, phlegmy laughter]
ME: [trying to suppress hysterical laughter] Now, go to sleep, you farter. What'd you have for lunch, bologna and skunk?
MISS O: No, I did not. I had peanut butter and jelly.