The worst thing I did this week was smack my nephew Liam on the butt.
Horrified? You should be. I am so horrified that I had to think long and hard about posting this particular crime.
(If you are from social services, please note: I am not the child's primary caregiver. Do not come here and take me away in chains. Thank you for your understanding.)
Let me show you what prompted me to commit this crime:
You might notice around the bottom edge of that horrifying bruise a series of tiny red tooth marks. That's right: Liam bit me. Out of the blue, for no particular reason.... he just turned his head and sank his teeth into my arm.
Less than half a second later, I smacked him in the butt. I am sure you can imagine what ensued: he started screeching. He screamed for his mother and when she appeared and viewed the dazed look on my face the the bruise already forming on my arm she looked at him and said:
"Liam! What did you do?"
"I got hit!" he cried (tears everywhere, heartbroken, banished from the garden, soul-rending sobbing disaster). He re-enacted my crime against him, hitting himself in the butt to show his mother what I had done to him. He did not stop crying (or re-enacting) for an hour.
I wanted to kill myself. I still want to kill myself.
His mother took my side. (Imagine that! There could be sides in a dispute involving a grown woman and a two year old??) She told him that she would have done that to him too. And then he proceeded to explain, to my horror, that he was just nibbling me because he loves me. At this point, as you can well imagine, I started calculating how fast I could get home and sharpen my knives. So as to commit self harm.
So we had a long discussion about only biting food. And a long discussion about how biting hurts people. And a long discussion about how when someone hits you in the butt, he or she (or actually only Aunt Nina, since she is the only person who has ever laid a hand on the precious one) is trying to send a message. About behavior.
I wish I were dead.
Thank you for reading.
If you are sad, after having learned that I am a fucking bitch monster-ball, take a look at this. 1500 Phillipino inmates performing "Thriller" (thank you, Gawker) will make you feel better about humanity, even if you can't forgive me.
The Crazy, Day Three: A better day. I woke up, drank my coffee black, ate nothing but fish and arugula all day and then went climbing for two hours. Then I worked out for 2.5 hours. Followed by broccoli and about two gallons of water. The real victory, however, was going to the Chelsea bar crawl, and not drinking. Wahoo!