It's my first day back to work after last week's ultra-fun but ultra-tiring staycation with the kids. So it was great timing to read this hilarious piece my Samantha Bee. (Thank you Casey.)
Take it away Sam:
Let's be clear about something: I love my children more than life itself, and I would happily lay down my life or yours for them, as required. And I am a "tiger mother" of sorts; except that in my case, I'm the tiger who lays there helplessly in the sun as her tiger babies climb all over her, tugging on her fur and generally having their way with her. It's summer vacation with the kids again, and I am in full "weary tiger" mode.
I just don't have any more energy to dig in and renovate my children into super-intelligent reading cyborgs for the first day of school. I can't do any more rainy day activities with dry oatmeal in a cardboard box. I simply will not sing the "Fruit Salad Salsa" even one more time; if the children can't get behind Neil Young that's their problem until school starts up again. And my stern warnings have become completely senseless; "I'm warning you—if you don't eat all your Gummy Worms you're not getting any Sour Patch Kids! I am tired of wasting all this good candy!"
Frankly, from now until September the only learning we will be engaging in will be movie-based. I plan to let them watch "Star Wars," and will continue to play it in a constant loop until they can imaginatively explain to me what it might feel like to "make the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs." It's all I can do to stave off the pandemonium that could be.
More at the link. And God bless you Samantha Bee... from one weary tiger to another.