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Do you ever have the same conversation with your children more than one time? And by more than one time, I mean, do you ever have the urge to smack your children upside the head because you’ve repeated yourself 10 times? And by that, I mean, do you ever have the intense desire to staple reminders to their foreheads of ALL THE THINGS you’ve told them MILLIONS of times that they constantly “forget”, as if they’re Drew Barrymore in that movie 50 First Dates?

Ok, good. Me, too.

Studies show that women say roughly 20,000 words a day, whereas men only say about 7,000. Do you want to know why that is? It is NOT because we have all these hours to sit around and gab with our girlfriends… No. We have no time and we use all these words because we are spending all the time and all the words on repeating ourselves to EVERYONE IN OUR HOME! That is why women look like crazy, prattling buffoons every time they get with one another. They finally get to share all the NEW stuff they’ve been holding in for weeks and they’re bursting at the seams, talking over one another to get it out before they simply explode. But the other women don’t mind. Because they have other people that they live with, too. The need to not repeat is a condition that all women share. It unites us and we become stronger when in a pack. And that is why Ladies Night out is vital to our civilization. Take it away and society as we know it will crumble.

So, that being said, it’s pertinent to note that my children, they don’t get along. They fight and argue, cheat each other out of things, steal, break the other’s things, etc. And that’s why I am SOOOO relieved when I see them playing well with one another. It’s like a breath of fresh air! (Plus, if they’re occupying each other, there are fewer people asking me questions that require me to repeat myself for the kajillionth time.)

But my mistake is thinking that their playing together is a good thing. Because history shows me that I am simply allowing myself to be sucked in to the “ignorance is bliss” mentality, going about my business while I choose to ignore that gut instinct telling me that my kids are being toooo nice to one another. When they unite, they generally wield their powers for evil, not for good.

So when I saw my children at the end of the driveway, sitting with one another, I allowed myself to relax and enjoy the picture of their companionship. When really, I should’ve been wondering what the crap they were doing at the end of the driveway, sitting with one another without screaming.

It turns out that my children had gone through the garbage and decided to SELL our trash at the end of the drive. To our neighbors. AGAIN.

Again, you may ask? Yes. Again. Why this is an issue that bears repeating, I’ll never know. But apparently, it does. I have spent 3 ½ years trying to get my kids to stop digging through my trash. Sure, they came from bad homes… blah, blah, blah. (This is my therapeutic side, obviously.) My children had the nerve to say, “We didn’t know!” which was the equivalent of saying, “Please ground me from everything for the rest of my life!” Because they did know. I know that they know because we had this same conversation the last time they sold our trash!

And my poor neighbors… they have no idea that those items had been sitting with my rotten banana peels and coffee grounds. They graciously take our garbage and give my children their coins, never thinking twice that they’re now in the possession of salmonella-encrusted junk.

We may have to move.

But luckily, both children at least have the nerve to seem contrite at the end of the day. There are apologies and promises “to never do it again”. (Until the next time.) But even in their contrition, there are repeats. For example….

Taylor says to me in the car this evening, “Mom, when is Jesus gonna die again?”

“……Um…..What are you talking about?”

“You know what I mean, Mom! When is Jesus going to DIE AGAIN!?”

Feeling frustrated that she’s exasperated with me, I said, “Taylor, I’m gonna need a little more than that to figure out what we’re discussing, here.”

“OK. So, Jesus died for our sins, just like He does every so often. I just wanna know when the next time is?”

“Every so often? Honey, Jesus died ONCE and that was it. He died for everyone’s sins ONE TIME.”

“Well then what about all the sins I did since last year?? How are they gonna get out of my heart!?”

She was panicked. I was confused. We were at an impasse.

And then it dawned on me…. (mainly because we’ve passed this tree on this road before)

“Taylor, are you talking about Easter?”

“YES!” She lets out a huge sight that I’ve finally caught up to her quick train of thought. Sure, we’re only 6 months early for the holiday. But I should’ve known, right?

“Honey. For the millionth time. When you see that movie, Jesus is not dying AGAIN in real life. It’s a movie showing that He died ONCE a looooong time ago. And He died for all the since, in all the times, EVER. So your new sins are covered by the one death. It’s a movie. Always a movie. Every year. Still a movie.”

“Soooo…. It’s a movie.”

Oh my gosh.

There is not enough air on this earth available for the number of breaths I take per day to have the capacity to repeat myself. All the air is gone. My children have rendered the occupants of our planet Oxygenless with their constant questions and forgetfulness. Maybe one day they will learn to use their powers for good. But until then, I’m gonna need a Girl’s Night Out… or twelve.

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