Funny Friday: you, too, have eyes

Back by request, an update written by the 20-month old:

Hi, it’s been a while. But, you know, priorities. The only thing pulling me away from wrecking stuff in my house is the need to save others from the constraints imposed upon me by the one who I call Mama. Pfft. More like Nah-Nah, as is Nah, I don’t need any of that.

My latest thing is, I hate–absolutely hate–riding in the car. Talk about lack of freedom. Last we talked, I believe I was being shoved into a pumpkin for photographic purposes. Things haven’t gotten much better. Now, every time I need to go somewhere, I’m put into a five-point harness. I can’t move. Literally. So here’s how I fight back once they buckle me in.

First, throw things. I mean anything. If they give you Bunny, THROW HER. If they give you a graham cracker, THROW IT. If they give you an animal cracker, first look at it to see if it has eyes. Let me tell you, eyes are the best thing since being born, and you can find eyes on people, stuffies, animals, even cars. Once you see if it has eyes, announce loudly that it has eyes. Then THROW IT. Unless it’s an elephant. Elephants are the best. If the animal cracker’s an elephant, eat its eyes and trunk. Then it will no longer be an elephant.

Then you can throw it!

Once you’re out of things to throw, you will very quickly realize you forgot to look to see if Bunny has eyes. Scream for Bunny. Try to make this coincide with a dangerous driving condition, like a busy merge onto a highway or an intersection with a history of crashes.

Usually, the driver will be able to reach back and retrieve Bunny within a few minutes. Then you can go ahead and look to see whether Bunny has eyes. Loudly announce that she does. Saying “Bunny” out loud will remind you that it’s really quiet in the car, so then you announce “Bunny Foo Foo.”

Just keep yelling FOO FOO until the song comes on. If she has the audacity to play ANY other music in the interim, shout “no” loudly until the offending song ceases, dragging out the “n” syllable like you’re supercharging it.

Now, you mustn’t let a single song consistently quell your rage. For instance. This morning, I insisted on “Thunderstruck” to be played repeatedly whilst stuck in traffic. On the way home, Mama thought she knew something. No, mother. AC/DC was only for this morning. The afternoon commute was “Five Little Ducks.” We listened five times before that woman let the next song on. “Five Little Pumpkins”? What on earth was that woman thinking? If this ever happens to you, do what I did. Shout “Duck” repeatedly. Shrilly. Drunkenly. The song will come back.

After its sixth playing, the pumpkin song came on. Now let me tell you. The duck song is more like the hero’s journey. We’re talking Joseph Campbell’s monomyth with ducks leaving home and disappearing and returning again. It’s a simple but pleasing tale. Now the pumpkin song is a whole range of emotions, from contentedness to crying to pouting and then to laughing. After a tiring day at preschool, how can one expect me to run such an emotional gamut with less than seven instances of the duck song first? But alas, after the seventh iteration, I was ready to accept the pumpkin song, singing along to the highs, the lows. It’s a regular Hallmark special. On repeat.

If you keep this up, you maintain control of your oppressor even as you are strapped in to a five point prison. By the time you get home, their will will be broken. Just look at me. See the cat I’m holding? The one eating my sister’s half-eaten pop tart? It’s supposed to be my “only at preschool” stuffy. Like it’s supposed to sleep over in the classroom every single night so that we “don’t have to worry about forgetting it in the morning.” Know what that sounds like? Oppression. A twenty minute Nazgul scream in traffic the evening before is all it took to put an end to that injustice.

In summary, fight the good fight. Insist on only the pink cup. No, the OTHER pink cup. And remember, you too have eyes.