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Monday, March 10, 2014

Confessions Of A Nerd-Footed Woman

I adore my children.

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I do indeed, love my children. I love them a lot.

But they make me crazy.

Why do they do things? I mean, crazy things. Things that utterly defy common sense and any form of reasonable judgement.

Take my daughter, for instance. A few weeks ago, she went to a friend's birthday party, and as a party favor, she was given a very, very large box of Nerds. I'm referring to the colorful, fruity candy here. You know the one - tiny little multicolored rock-like pieces of sugar. This box was enormous - there had to be more than a pound of Nerds in the thing.

So my daughter ate a handful out of  the box, then put the box up on her dresser, without bothering to seal it shut.

In a house with two cats.

You can guess the rest. A cat jumped up on the dresser, Nerds went toppling over, spilling everywhere and coating her carpet in high-fructose technicolor glory.

Which, of course, was duly noted by her when she next entered her room, but apparently, it wasn't worth discussing with me. Or cleaning up.

And when I took a pile of newly folded laundry into her room in my bare feet, mayhem ensued. I entered the room in the dark, freaked out when my feet felt like they were walking in a gravel pit, flipped on the light and freaked out again.

I emerged looking and feeling like I was wearing a pair of Nerd shoes, and after several minutes of picking them out of the hall carpet and from between my toes, I shouted her down and got a shoulder shrug in response.

"What?" She said. "The cat spilled my Nerds."

"Why didn't you vacuum them up."


"Do you expect me to do it?"


"No, you're going to do it. Now."

She sighed heavily, as though this were such an imposition. And walking on tiny sugar rocks that embed in your feet isn't?

I don't get it.

I understand lazy. I understand messy. But I don't get how leaving this is preferable in any way to being able to walk normally across your carpet.

Lazy and Messy only work when they entail And I assure you, walking around with Nerds stuck to your feet and dealing with the aftermath is work. Hard work. Hard, unnecessary work.

I love my daughter, but sometimes, she makes my eye twitch.

And for the record, Nerds are only slightly less painful to walk on than Legos.

Very slightly.


  1. I am so very sorry for laughing my patootie off at this. But it's not my fault, it's yours. Seriously. If you didn't write the story in such a YOU-type fashion, I could be appropriately sympathetic. Instead, I'm gigglesnorting like a lunatic. So thank you, and I'm sorry for your Nerdfooties.

  2. Ah, the natural habitat of the young teen. Sorry about your feet, but that's too funny!