In my final Thursday Thirteen last week, (what great fun Th13 was for the 23 weeks I participated), I listed the reasons I should sue for and gain custody of Britney Spears' kids.
Well, I had them a few days, and I'm giving them back. And here's why:
- Apparently, babies have neither the patience, nor the physical endurance to scratch my belly for the required 6 hours per day.
- Those kids take only one 2-hour nap in the afternoon, which means I'm supposed to stay up during the time I normally sleep my standard 12-16 hours?
- The little bastards were upstaging me with the paparazzi. I've heard my last "Ok, now one without the cat!"
- They kept falling from their designated sleeping spots...on the back of the couch.
- Bathing them with my tongue left their skin irritated and, subsequently, the taste of cortisone cream made me nauseous.
- Two words: Dirty Diapers.
- My plan to use Sean Preston and the other one to get "play dates" with
BradShiloh Jolie-Pitt back-fired when Shiloh was dropped off and I actually had to entertain her!
- They are finicky eaters..."No like dry kibble!" "No like moist food!" Does Iams even make a food for spoiled brat humans?
- The boys kept petting me backward which really chapped my ass and placed them at the business-end of my one of my hissy fits!
- My sleep was constantly being interrupted by Sean Preston's night-terror screams of "Popozao!"
- THOSE DAMN WIGGLES!
- I thought teaching them to curse in both English and Meow was cute, until I saw "Federline kid cusses out peer at McDonald's Playland under Kukka's care" on the E! news ticker.
- My bedtime stories of club-hopping, pill-popping and naked hot-tubbing gave them nightmares.
- Apparently, when they cry, you have to do stuff to make them stop?
- As a single, kittenless female, I used to consider "getting tail" a positive thing...with probing toddler hands around, it means I have to run.
- Who knew my breast milk had 8.7% alcohol content?