Why does God punish me so? I've been a fairly decent person. I don't cheat, lie, or steal. I treat people in ways that they deserve to be treated ( unless you count that time I tripped the little old lady in Wal Mart so I could grab the last bottle of Metamucil. Hey, I had a slight fiber issue a few years back, don't judge.)
People say that God works in mysterious ways. Bullshit, I think he's just a prick. How else do you explain parenthood? My theory is that The Almighty resents parents since he never got to make kids the old fashioned way. Think about it. He's all-powerful, but yet the only way he could get a woman to carry his child is to promise NOT to have sex with her? The Supreme Being, who single handedly created the very ground we walk on and the air that we breathe was reduced to a faceless sperm donor? So, essentially, because Mary had completely unrealistic standards, we parents have been paying the price ever since.
How so, you may ask? Well, my daughter seems to always know how to say the absolute WORST thing at the WORST time. It's like she's the Good Lord's personal marionette. And I'm the dink who has to sit back and watch the show.
We were in Wal Mart one Sunday night. Browsing the aisles and marveling at all the cool stuff that I could furnish my house with. If my house were a 10x20 tin-roofed trailer up on blocks with my dog Zeke chained to the fence as I sit on the front steps picking my one remaining tooth with a stick I found by the side of the creek.
Anyway, we have a habit of playfully poking each other, picking on each other, and giving each other "pigeon kicks" (I'll explain some other time. But they can be very annoying, and hurt like hell if done correctly). We were having our sacred ritual of pissing each other off and giggling as we stroll the aisles, trying to think of new ways to bug each other.
And then God intervened. There must have been a re-run of Jersey Shore on T.V and he was looking for something to occupy his time before Real Housewives of NY came on (and the simple fact that both of these shows exist is further proof that God hates humans).
My daughter just didn't seem to be in the mood. And then God spoke through her.
"Dad!! Stop touching me!!!! I only like it when I touch myself!!!!"
I looked around and sure as shit, people heard her. A pair of blue hairs looked at me like I was the spawn of Satan as they were frantically searching their purses for that little bottle of Holy Water they keep for just such an occasion. A gaggle of teenagers laughed their asses off. And one, lone father who was pushing his 3 year old in the carriage, looked up at me and just nodded his head. He understood.
He must have been a dink too.