My daughter has developed a rather annoying habit lately. When I ask her to do something, she'll reply, "What?"
I know she hears me. I know she understands me. But rather than turn her attention from her toys or art or television, she'll just say "What?" without even looking at me. Drives me absolutely crazy.
And yesterday, I finally snapped.
We needed to go to the grocery store. I was changing Zed's diaper.
Me: Put your shoes on.
Zoey: What?
Me: Put your shoes on!
Zoey: What?
Me: Does your Daddy look like a moron?
She looked at me, puzzled, probably afraid to tell me how she really felt.
Me: What room you in?
Zoey: What?
Me: What ain't no room I know. Do they speak English in What?
Zoey: What?
Me: English! Zoey! DO YOU SPEAK IT?
Zoey: Yes.
Me: Then you understand what I'm saying?
Zoey: Yes.
Me: Now tell me if you think your Daddy looks like a moron.
Zoey: What?
At this point, I got really upset. I put Zed on the floor and got right in Zoey's face.
Me: Say What again! C'mon, say What again! I dare ya. I double dare ya, Zoey! Say What one more time!
She was speechless.
Me: Now describe what Daddy looks like.
Zoey: Well... you have brown hair.
Me: Go on!
Zoey: And you've got a goatee.
Me: Do I look like a moron?
Zoey: What?
I picked her up and put her in her timeout chair. As usual, she started crying.
Me: DO I LOOK LIKE A MORON, ZOEY!!!
Zoey: No.
Me: Then why did you pretend you didn't hear me?
Zoey: I didn't.
Me: Yes, you did, Zoey. You pretended not to hear me. You ever read the Bible, Zoey?
Zoey: At school. In the room we take food for people who don't have food.
Me: There's a passage I got memorized, seems appropriate for this situation: Proverbs 23:13. "Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you punish him with the rod, he will not die. Punish him with the rod and save his soul from death."
I must've blacked out because I don't remember what happened next. I can tell you we had a pleasant grocery store experience. However, when I went to pay for our groceries, the words Bad MotherFucker were embroidered on my wallet.
Crazy.
Channeling Samuel L.
