I Hate Kids

If someone asked me, "Tell me a phrase that you remember your mother saying."  I would have to reply, "I hate kids."  It is now as the mother of a sassy 6 year old that I understand that phrase and why she said it.  I hope I can explain this exactly, so you know that she didn't actually hate us- just hated when we aggravated her.  And that I don't hate my kids- just hate that one in particular, can aggravate me so.
So my mother has 3 children.  I am the oldest, my sister is the middle child- younger than me by 5.5 years, and my brother- the youngest by 11 years.  She used to say she didn't have a favorite (I actually believe that) she enjoyed us all for our different qualities.  While we are similar- we are also very different.  However, there is one thing we all did rather well- and that would be, annoy my mother.  Sometimes on purpose.  I know you find it hard to believe that I would do anything to annoy my mother on purpose, but it's true.  Sorry to taint your vision of me. 
I don't actually remember doing this, but my mother recently told me that sometimes when I was a teenager I would do really irritating things to her- until she said, "I hate kids!"  And then apparently I would say, "Ok- cool, I did it" and then walk away apparently satisfied that I had annoyed her.  So- while I don't remember doing this- it sounds so much like me, I have to believe it.  I actually do the same thing to Doug now (it's so fun to get him riled up.  And so easy!  One day I will share all of the things I do to aggravate him).  Again- sorry to taint your vision of me.
I have found myself thinking "I hate kids" in response to some of Andrew's antics this summer.  I have almost called my mother a 100 times this summer to share my "I hate kids" moments.  Tonight we had one.  Doug is collecting trash from around the house- since tomorrow is trash day. He tells Andrew to come in our bathroom and get the trash.  Alexa and I are in there because I am getting her ready for bed.  So, Andrew goes to Doug's cabinet that has the safetely lock on it and makes a big to do over having to get the trash out of it for Doug, banging the cabinets around, distracting Alexa, making her wiggle more than she already was.  And so I look at him, and he gives me that snarky smirk of his that tells me- he knows exactly what he's doing to aggravate me- and it's working (because we have NEVER kept the trash in Doug's cabinet- it's actually in the corner, nowhere near cabinets that have to be excessively banged) and I find myself thinking, "I hate kids!" 
I hope you know I don't actually hate my children.  I just hate that Andrew knows exactly how to press my buttons and get under my skin so easily.  But obviously from my earlier comments I deserve what I am getting from Andrew.  Shoot I hate that old thing called karma. 

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