Today I found Aiden on his knees scrubbing the floor. Ah, the heavens must have heard and answered my prayers of bringing up the earthlings the right way. I would have patted myself on the back for raising a responsible 4 year old boy had he not been scrubbing the floor with my fucking toothbrush. Can you believe the gall of this boy? The audacity of the kid to not even use his is own fucking toothbrush.
Thank you for helping out in the chores but just don't. Seriously, just don't. After dumping what used to be my toothbrush and is now his cleaning apparatus in the trash I started to have the most horrible of thoughts. You know those thoughts that once they start coming they just keep on coming with what seems like no end to them. No matter how hard you to try to focus on something pleasant like your Lola's (grandmother's) home cooked pochero your mind keeps going back to the disagreeable. Like that day you Googled chicken pox and boils and couldn't stop looking at the pictures no matter how puss filled, vomit inducing and grotesque they were. Has Aiden ever used my toothbrush other than for teeth cleaning before? Did he clean his toes after playing in the sandbox at the park? Did he buff the bathroom tiles to remove the bacteria filled gaps between them? Did he scrape the sink drain where we all know cockroaches come from when we're sleeping? DID HE FUCKING BRUSH THE FUCKING TOILET WITH MY FUCKING TOOTHBRUSH?????