My Tentacles

In my human form you may know me as Marie. But to my children I am the alien who merely uses my human form to ruin their lives. And then blog about it. Which ruins their lives even more. And it's really, really laborious with my alien tentacles I'm disguising in these really, really intrusive hand formed mittens. That I confess are excruciatingly painful, to type in.

What my kids don't realize is...

Spending every moment of the summer with them isn't a picnic for me either.

I don't live to nag at them.

I don't nag at them because I don't like them.

Because I couldn't be bothered nagging someone I don't care about.

Because I actually hate nagging.

So I save that for the ones I love.

Obviously.

So therefore, by simple logic, it should be obvious that I love them.

Duh.

Because I care enough to nag the very, very best.

I'm glad that they are finally in bed so I can take off these painful mittens and let my tentacles breathe.

And now I'll take this moment to apologize to my alien parents for ever having been a teenager.

Yes, mine truly were aliens.

Cause they're Canadian.

Eh?