In case you didn’t know, I am an only child, who has an only child. It’s a little hard deciding who the earth revolves around but, we manage. I think I was a bit of a difficult child as I was too smart for my own good and I pretty much thought my parents were full of shit the moment I was born.  I was demanding, sassy and thought I could always get my way.

When I was about 10, I decided I wasn’t very cool. I needed to change that.  The first thing that popped into my mind was that if I had a monkey, in my small prairie farm  town, well, that would be pretty much akin to becoming a goddess. Those hicks would ooh and ah and line up for miles to gaze at my monkey. I’d be so goddamn popular I’d OWN that place and all 300 people in it. And only a chosen few would have the luck to pet my monkey.

So I started.

“Can I have a monkey?” No. “I need a monkey!” No. “Please can I have a monkey?” No. “YOU HATE ME! WHY WAS I BORN? YOU’RE TERRIBLE! I WISH I WAS DEAD! I MAY AS WELL BE IF I DON’T HAVE A MONKEY!”  And so on. And on. And on. For months. All day, every day.

It was absolutely terrible. Exhausting for all of us. I could not for the life of me figure out why those pricks were ruining my only chance of happiness.

I plotted.

I pictured myself in some Wonder Woman outfit with Dirty Harry’s gun and thought about sneaking up behind them, and calmly saying, “Get. Me. A. Fucking. Monkey. Now. GETMEAFUCKINGMONKEYRIGHTNOW! Or make my day!”

In theory, it probably would have worked.

About that time, my dad snapped.

I’m not sure if he said it to mom, me or the universe but he bellowed something like, “Monkeys jerk off all the time!!”

Now, I wasn’t too clear on what that meant, but it didn’t sound good.  I didn’t think I wanted something doing that around me all the time. (I’ve actually made that a personal philosophy in my life, but I digress.)

I let the monkey thing drop.

And guess what?  Son now wants a puppy. I have 5, four-legged, fur-covered shit machines in my house. So the answer is no. And I am completely ruining his life.

“I want a puppy.” No. “I need a puppy.” No. “Please?” No. “NOTHING LOVES ME IN THIS HOUSE! I NEED A PUPPY!” And so on.

Mom, Dad, I’m sorry. Excuse me while I have an Advil and chase it with a small keg of wine.

9 thoughts on “Payback

  1. That’s weird! I have “liked” my own post according to wordpress, yet I did no such thing. And they think I’m from Brampton! Who is this imposter? Show yourself or die, missy!!!!

  2. Hi Leeanne,
    It is probably a “pingback” meaning someone linked to your website or mentioned it (“liked it”). If there is a link follow it and see who is your fan. Links to your blog are a good thing. The more links, the more popular google thinks you are. Links equal traffic.

    Love your duck picture!


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