Ever have one of those days? You know, the kind of day when your kids prove to you that you really are a failure at the whole parenting gig?

Have you ever wondered to yourself, "Who's kids are these? Why are they yelling at me? When will their parents come pick them up?"

Am I the only one that has renounced the title of Mommy and threatened to run away and join the circus?

Do you ever stare in bewilderment at the fruit of your womb as they morph into the spawn of hades?

Are you ever caught off guard by the whining and complaining of the short people in your home that you serve selflessly? Do they ever hate the food that you spent so much time buying and preparing? Or the clothes in their closet? Are mine the only ungrateful ones? Did I cause this somehow?

Have the words, "I hate this family, I want to run away" or "You're mean, you don't love me." Ever rolled off the tongue of your sweet cherub? Are you shocked by the disrespect and arguing produced by such "innocent" beings?

If not, then what am I doing wrong? What have I done to deserve this treatment? I'm not wish-washy. I have rules. I enforce them. I think I'm consistent. I come up with new approaches and solutions to manage this family.

Why didn't anybody warn me that this was going to be so difficult?

Oh, wait. I distinctly remember my mother pointing her finger at me and growling, "I hope you have one just like YOU!"

So, it's my MOTHER'S fault. She cursed me.
Yeah, that must be it.