One time Mommy read me a book called Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. He
thought his day was bad? Mine was so much worse.
Last night was rough. I kept feeling this horribly weird
poking sensation in my mouth. When Mommy and Daddy put me to bed I kept crying
because it hurt. Mommy and Daddy took turns coming in. Every time Mom came in
she would stick her finger in my mouth and I would hear words like “Sharp
tooth” “New one” “Poor baby.” Did she really think sticking her fingers in my
mouth would help? She doesn’t like it when I stick my fingers in her mouth. Why
did she think I would like it? Every time Daddy came in he rocked me and sang
to me. Nice gesture. But that doesn’t do anything for the pain. Usually I don’t
like to bother my parents when they sleep, but I was crying because it really
hurt. I don’t know why I bothered them. They didn’t help me anyway. At one
point my parents gave me a bottle. “You think I’m hungry?” I want to blurt out,
but can only do it in my language—I cry and refuse to eat.
I cry again and Mommy comes in. She picks me up and carries
me through the lit hallway. I squint because it hurts my eyes. “What is she
doing to me now?” I am carried into my parent’s bedroom and I hear Mommy say,
“She’s sleeping with us. I am too tired to keep walking down the hallway.”
“What?” I try to shout, “I have to sleep with you guys?” I like my bed. I know
they wouldn’t want to sleep in my crib with me so what makes them think I’ll
want to sleep in their bed with them? Mommy and Daddy’s bed is scary. Sometimes
I wake up and see their huge bodies on either side of me. I get scared they
will roll on top of me. I cry so that they don’t forget that I am there. My
mouth still hurts.
Mommy’s alarm clock goes off way too early. “6AM? You think
I want to get up now?” I am mad. I see Daddy go back to sleep as Mommy gets up.
I know they want me to go back to sleep too but its just too hard. My tooth
hurts, I’m angry at my mom and now I’m getting hungry. Finally Daddy gives me
breakfast. Milk, just what I like for breakfast! Oh, but it hurts my mouth to
suck! I am mad again.
Mommy leaves for work and I am happy to get some time
without her sticking her hands in my mouth so I can rest. Then Daddy straps me
into my car seat and we’re off. Where are we going? I decide to fall asleep in
the car. I am rudely awakened when I have to—what?—get shots? Today? When my
mouth already hurts? This is cruel.
Three shots are jabbed into me. I scream. I scream again. And
again. Why? Why me? Why today? I am trying to be a good girl
but it is too hard. What am I supposed to do? My mouth hurts and now my legs
hurt. We come home, and luckily, I quickly fall asleep. When I wake up my Daddy
puts me in my car seat again and says
we have to pick up Mommy. I am wearing a ridiculous outfit and worry I might
see my friends. Is he trying to
embarrass me?
When we come home Mommy tells me it is time for lunch. She
says I am going to try a new food. I get excited—I usually like new food. Then
she gives it to me. What in the world is she thinking? Green beans? I stick out my tongue and refuse to swallow.
Green beans slide out of my mouth. I stare at my Mommy with an evil eye—I need
to make sure she knows this behavior was NOT acceptable and that she never
gives it to me again.
I am grumpy all afternoon. Why? Not because I want to be
bad, but because everyone is torturing me.
Alexander and the
Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day has got NOTHING on me.
