Paw Patrol is the Bane of My Existence

Picture this: a ride in the car during the life and times of covid19. Little Lady K and I are only going two places, we have our masks and we are ready. 

I like going on rides with my baby girl. She is extremely funny. The downside is that she HAS to have a stuffy with her on car rides. Has to. I mean, she is able to ride without one... but then behavior is dicey. No one wants to deal with that bullshit, right? Right! 

So, here we are in the car and she brought Skye with her- and not just some run of the mill Skye, no... the TALKING Skye has graced us with her presence. I want to vomit. Immediately. Little Lady K is in the back and she just KEEPS pressing the button that makes Skye talk. Over and over again. Like I want to take Skye and put her under my tires and and back over her. Twice. Here is the conversation that just happened: 

Me: “Alright with that Skye shit, stop pressing that button.”

K: “Mama, this not Skye sit... her is a toy.” Then she rolled her eyes.

But she didn’t press the button again, so clearly she got it. 

Check on your stay-at-home friends. We are not ok, and our children are becoming too well versed in sarcasm. 

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