It seems that I have to deliver a Smackdown at least once a day to somebody in my house and if it’s not one of those days I’ll make it one of those days by delivering the smackdown to myself. I’m always hardest on myself. Now this is Verbal Smackdown that is let me make that clear (don’t go writing to me all up in arms). Although the other kind is threatened about here and there too with 16 year old twins. “I brought you in this world and I’ll take you out.”
Why so many of these smackdowns or outbursts? There are no smooth sitcom moments in my house. No real moments of discussion and contemplation. Nope. they are only in my head when I do the writer initial set-ups.
Mom: “Honey I was very upset by X. Let’s discuss it.”
Kid rolls eyes but sits down sullenly: “Sorry Mom.”
Mom: “Now what would have been a more appropriate way to handle the situation?”
Kid: “I guess Y. I’ll do better next time.”
Hugs and love all around. Sit down dinner time. “Come and get it!”
Yeah. Um. Not. Think the opposite in reality. A stomp off, a yell and then me with the verbal Smackdown and punishment before an eyebrow is raised. Then everyone is sad and mad and there is the smell of rancid hatred soup in the air. Sort of cabbagey.
In that is why I’m so pissed at all the TV shows I used to love as a kids. The Cosby Show and The Brady Bunch. Man, they can all suck it. We were so not prepared for the Internet and texting and The Freakin Situation.