“The Experts” by Amy Rigby
“Mommy, can we go to McDonald’s?” Hazel asked in her piping voice. . . .
Are you a parent going through the Terrible Twos? Did you live through them and survive? Terrible Twosdays is a place to commiserate over the unending shenanigans of your Darling Children (as the online parenting communities say). Nonfiction stories will be considered, so long as names have been changed to protect the guilty. Inspired by our best-selling gift book for parents, Go the Fuck to Sleep, Terrible Twosdays joins the roster of our other online short fiction series. Unlike Mondays Are Murder and Thursdaze, we’re looking for stories with a light and mischievous feel, all about the day-to-day challenges of parenting. As with our other flash fiction series, stories must not exceed 750 words.
“Mommy, can we go to McDonald’s?” Hazel asked in her piping voice. . . .
I woke up at 1:00 a.m., when Jimmy had a bad dream, and at 3:45, when Sarah peed in her bed, and when my alarm went off at seven I got up and stepped on a lego and by mistake Jimmy got toothpaste on my last clean pair of pants, and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, really crappy day . . .
Moments after another Bears turnover, Ben comes wobbling down the hall wearing his mother’s fuchsia stilettos . . .
Assistant Pre-school maven cupped a hand around her mouth and stage whispered into the hood of my parka . . .
JR often watched TV with Grandma—either he would watch his cartoon or educational programs, or she would watch HGTV or a tattoo competition series . . .
Beautiful spring day in Ohio. Laundry room in the basement. Hanging clothes on the inside line from the dryer so they won’t be a wrinkled mess. My son, as usual, hungry for a snack. How does he always know when I don’t want to be interrupted in the middle of a task? . . .
When the doorbell rang, I almost didn’t answer it. I wasn’t expecting anyone at seven on a Tuesday night . . .
To date we’d always had the twins enrolled in all the same sports and activities. But when they turned six they started to express different interests . . .