Poor Me and the Terrible…..day

Grandson buckled up in the backseat. Backpack on floor.

Carpool line is moving onto the main road, having been given permission by the rapid-fire, gloved hands of the traffic controller.

Grandson seems a little sad.

First thing popping right out of my mouth, “How was school today?”

Thus begins the journey home.

“How was your day?” the unconscious greeting from my mother absolutely every time I walked through the door after a hellacious day at school.

“Fine.” the standard reply which meant, I don’t want to talk about it.

If she weaseled it out of me, my response was neither acknowledged nor given the sympathy it deserved, but no big deal. Does anyone really want to know how bad my day was? I certainly don’t want to hear about yours.

I know you’re asking, so how bad was it? Because you won’t get it, I’m not going to tell you. I’ll communicate by turning on the pout. The pout that inevitably leads to the all too familiar chorus of “poor me,” which taunts my minds ear like a “nanny, nanny boo boo.” I’ll probably hear the ghost of my father saying, “everybody’s out of step but Gwen,” and of course, the family favorite, “why don’t you go outside and eat worms?” (whatever the heck that means)

I suddenly realize why my own children received numerous doses of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day during our nightly bedtime rituals. Nobody says it better than that disgruntled little guy in his train pajamas, followed up by the wisest response of all time: “Some days are like that.”

“Fine,” grandson says.

“I ordered a fried egg for breakfast today and the white part had clear specks in it, and I hate it when the white part has clear specks in it,” I say.

“Mom made me wear my jacket today and it wasn’t even cold,” grandson.

“I went to get gas today and I left my wallet on the kitchen counter and I had to drive all the way back home to get it,” me.

“No one picked me to play on their team at recess,” grandson.

“I only got 12 hits on my blog today,” me.

“Well, I bet you get more tomorrow,” grandson.

“Let’s go get ice-cream,” me.

24 thoughts on “Poor Me and the Terrible…..day

  1. I was going to tell you the whole song, but someone beat me to it. But our refrain was different:
    Big fat juicy worms, long thin skinny worms,
    I’m going out and eat worms.
    Same dynamic as yours, but the whole song lyrics do lighten it up a bit!

  2. A wonderful way to join the grandson in his misery. We too often minimize our childs or grandchilds feelings. What may seem trivial to us is HUGE to them at that age. It took me a while to come to that conclusion but since I have my relationship with my son (twelve) has gotten so much better. Thanks for the post Gwen, you made a lot of people smile, and think.

  3. Buddy

    There is an old song
    Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I’m going out and eat worms
    Big one, fat one, itty bitty skinny ones, ones that wiggle and squirm.

    There’s more , but I don’t remember. I think tht’s where te Sear’s go out and eat worms line originated.

  4. I was having a bit of the “poor me” kind of day too (ironically, over puny blog hits). This put some perspective to it. I need to remember this for my 4 year old granddaughter. Great!

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