Teeny Bopper Hell

From the time I was very young, I've been a people watcher. No, not one of those wall flower types who gape at everyone, or even a voyeur, nothing like that... just honest to goodness people watching. It's also not something I consciously do when out and about, because normally when I'm out and about, I can almost certainly be found chatting up a storm with one or more people.

But, for some reason I can still tune in to what the people around me are doing, saying etc. It's just weird, but I notice the most ridiculous things going on around me, no matter how engrossed I may be in a conversation or whatever else I'm doing at the time. For example, I would notice random guy in the far corner, hiding behind a menu, picking his nose and then wiping the booger off under his chair, or big lady with the sparkly white sandals, three rows down, pinching her husband's thigh and raising her eyebrows. Then I look around at the people with me and say "Did you SEE that?" and they look at me like I just landed in from another galaxy.

And, if that's not enough, then being able to tune into other conversations is another curse on my otherwise clean and spotless soul. I swear to you right here and now, I do not eavesdrop. I really don't have the time, and I also think what goes on in my head is more interesting than what a lot of people around me have to say. There I go, pissing people off again... one of these days, I'll get the nastygram and probably deserve it.

So, sitting in one of my favorite coffee houses today, with my husband as we waited for the kids to get off dance class, and who should come and sit down right next to us, but those wonderful, misunderstood and very frickin excited.... Teenagers!! Now, don't get me wrong, I love teenagers, and am a great defender of all things youthful, well maybe not the way some of them dress these days, but otherwise yes, I love teenagers, having being one myself many moons ago. But, when I'm enjoying a nice quiet cup of coffee with my husband and chatting about how I want to remodel the kids room, I do not want my curses to rise to the surface and start observing teenagers. ***Sigh*** But, they did, and I did, so here's what my curse brought to my attention.

Girl 1: I'm like so happy you guys could make it
Girl 2: So, so, so, like did he call?
Girl 1: Yeah he did, and Omigod, I was like SO excited!
Girl 3: Sooooo, like what did he... like SAY???
Girl 1: You will like not believe this, but he was like So I just called to wish you a happy birthday, and I was like Omigod, I can't believe you remembered and he was like Yeah, so what are you doing today? and I was like Oh nothing much, just like dinner with the fam and he was like OK then have a great birthday! Omigod! Omigod! Can you like belieeeeeeeeve it?
Girl 2: Omigod!!! Whaaat? He rememmmmmbered? Omigod!!
Girl 3: He's like SOOOO hot!
Girl 1 & 2: I KNOW!!!

No, they couldn't get us another table, no I couldn't tune out, no, I won't be going back there next year on July 8th, and no I did not appreciate my husband laughing at my rant later, because HE teaches this age group in school and is like used to like how they like speak like every like single like day!!

Informal Debate Rules - Thou Shalt and Thou Shalt Not

Most of my family or friends will tell you that I love to debate. They'll also tell you it's just another word for 'argue' and they're right. I can argue about anything, with anyone, at anytime, any day. My husband knowing this, married me anyway, and now probably lives to regret it. My four year old children, or at least my daughter is definitely biding her time watching, learning and preparing to kick my ass when I least expect it. I expect it every second of every day... I'm way ahead of her, and much taller.

What most people fail to understand, is that it's not a love for the actual argument, or beating someone when they're trying to make a point or **gasp** winning. It's just something people like me, do. And, we're not bad people, or bullies or whatever the hell you want to call us. We just like to make our point too, and most times we're so hell bent on making that point, we really do come across as bitches or bastards. Which is a load of crap. We love people, for the most part. I know I do, and I love to learn from them too.. Just because I'm talking hard and fast, does not mean I'm not listening. People tend to forget that when debating with the 'love to argue' types.

But, there are rules! Our rules, and we follow them, and just wish others would too. Granted they may not be formal rules listed on some international debate website, but they exist (or should) in any informal debate setting. So I'm going to type them out now, and probably piss off a lot of people in my life.

The Rules

1. Know What You're Debating
For there is nothing more annoying, than a person who likes to argue about something, he has little or no clue about. These are not the 'argue about everything' types... these ones usually have one pet subject they are ignorant about, and they love to show the world just how frickin ignorant they are about it... every chance they get.

2. Try to Understand
Make the attempt, really, it won't kill you. Time and again I see people not bothering to even attempt understanding what the other person is saying. Maybe they're just busy listening and agreeing with the voice (voices?) in their own head, so they can't hear, leave alone listen to anything else.

3. Be Yourself
If you do not have a personality, find one online or something, then adopt it.. and STICK with it. But to do not pull the whole I-have-a-multiple-personality-disorderish-type-of-personality. Which means you're nice one minute, and go completely off the deep end the next. It's confusing, and I for one never know if I should keep talking, or offer to run to the nearest pharmacy and buy you your meds.

4. Don't Be a Whiny Ass Baby
I'm going to play the whiny ass baby here for a second to really get the point across. I bring up a topic, and people get talking. Someone makes a point, and I begin an argument. They make another valid point, and all I can say in return is 'You're bullying me, wah wah wah, you're being so mean wah wah wah, and rude wah wah wah, and a bitch wah wah, wah, and I wish you wouldn't. You're so angry wah wah wah and I don't like anger because I've had a really hard day wah wah wah, I'm just trying to be nice and understanding of you and your point, but you won't let it go wah wah wah.

If I downed a drink for everytime I've encountered one of these piss poor excuses of "debators", I would be an alcoholic.

5. Keep it Simple.
Be short and to the point please and save the lengthy stuff for your blogs or journals like so many of us do. I like to debate, not lose my hearing to monotone crap, or make my retinas bleed a slow death. I just came across a couple of such "debate" posts on Facebook, and I swear to all that is holy, my eyes screamed in terror and I felt like they were gasping for air. It was terrible... sentence after sentence of type which would cure me of my insomnia if my eyes did not protest.

Thanks for stopping by... Have a great weekend!!

20 Confessions This Week

Too little time to post a whole long and drawn out post this week. Sad really, but I blame the heat which makes me lag behind on every major and minor chore around the house, outside the house, on top of the house... whatever.

01. I signed the kids up for dance class, and now wish I had checked the timings first.

02. Afternoon drives in what the weather bureau claims to be 35 degrees C is unbearable,
even with the air conditioning on full blast.

03. Weather forecasts for this city are always inaccurate.

04. I hate pollution more than everyone else.

05. Dance class does not drain kids of energy, an hour of it is like six tablespoons of sugar
washed down with Coke.

06. My husband cooked dinner today.

07. Because I pretended I was going to, and then let him insist he would.

08. I'm a good wife otherwise.

09. Made a plan to meet a fellow twin mom for breakfast, and kept my fingers crossed she
would be normal, and not one of those moms I love to hate.

10. She was better than normal, she was awesome.

11. My children have taken to wearing nothing when they're home.

12. I can't thank them enough.

13. My washing machine can't thank me enough.

14. It's 10:00pm and I haven't eaten dinner yet.

15. The husband can cook, and cook well... it's just taking a while today.

16. I'm a little hungry but won't ask how long before dinner's ready.

17. Because I'm a good wife like that.

18. My OCD kicked in big time today, and I cleaned like a mad woman.

19. I also decided my dining room needs a makeover, as in paint, new table, some this and
that.

20. Mentioned it to my husband... He pretended he didn't hear me.

Top Ten Most Annoying Facebook Friends

Ah yes, my special, special post for the Top Ten most Annoying Facebook "Friends" a person could have. This particular brand of annoying types who utilize the social network to spread their crapability, amongst their fellow users. Bottom line, they're laughed at, and not just in those "OMG she is SO friggin annoying" private messages being exchanged between close friends. When friends get together for a few drinks, or chat on the phone, they laugh at them. It's a fact. I know I laugh at them because they're funny as hell, and cannot control how glaringly their personalities (or lack of) shine through online.

Not that I have anything against Facebook, I sort of love it, and how it keeps me connected to my friends, non-friends, family, blah blah blah. It's a great time killer too, and more and more I'm putting it to better use than the usual You're looking great picture comments or finding that I truly "Like" people's xyz bought new shoes today status updates, or that the bird they most identify with is the American Bald Eagle, or better yet, will most likely have six hundred sex partners in their lifetime, even though they're 50 years old and have been in a monogamous marriage for 25 plus years. Incredibly mind numbing this book of faces can be.

So, on to my Top Ten Most Annoying Facebook Friends. Some of these types were generously suggested by a number of my good friends on Facebook, and other networks. I'm very grateful for their contributions, and promise that none of them fit into any of the categories mentioned... Ahem, and I hope it stays that way.

10. The Old Friend You Don't (Want to) Remember
Sends you a friend request, with a message attached which attempts to jog your memory of how close you two were at age 14. Mostly references some embarrassing situation you desperately choose not to remember, ever. But you're a nice person, so you grudgingly add her on, after which your life becomes a living hell, because she apparently remembers every pathetic thing you did in your teens, every guy you had a crush on, every hideous outfit you ever wore, and proceeds to post about it on your wall, along with pictures.

9. The Super Hyper Facebooker
These types leave me breathless! If Facebook has an application, group, quiz or fan page which will clog your newsfeed with updates, this friend will have added it to his profile. You log on to Facebook and all you see is Hyperoo is a fan of socks, Hyperoo joined the group Revenge of the Nerds, Hyperoo scored 75,000 points donating trees to friends, Hyperoo's secret aimbition is to be Snow White, Hyperoo joined the group "I Hate Gays" Hyperoo is a fan of "Gays Have a Right to Marry"... And on and on and frickin on. You spend most of your Facebook time clicking the "hide" button above all his updates, but it never ends.

8. The Weird Ass Song Status Friend
This one is a classic! She only posts random song titles or crap ass lyrics as her status updates, leaving most of her friends bewildered or rolling their eyes. These people usually have crappy taste in music, and no life.

7. The Everyone's Friend, Friend
It's a popularity contest and it must be won. This oddity spends several hours a day browsing through his friends' friend lists, and sends out as many requests as he can. He doesn't know you and he doesn't care.. He just needs to win the imaginary "Person With the Most Friends on Facebook" award.

6. The Stalker
This one is most likely your ex-sister-in-law, or an ex boyfriend/girlfriend, who adds you to their friend list and never keeps in touch. But they drop by your profile to browse through your photo albums (and probably save your pictures to their hard drive), keep themselves updated on who you add to your list, and keep refreshing your profile page every half hour to check for status updates. You of course can't prove they do any of this, but you know it's true.

5. The Poker/Hugger/Lover
I feel sorry for this one, and for those who have this one on their lists. If you click your 'Other Requests' button, you're screwed. Several hundred virtual hugs, virtual cocktails, virtual kisses, virtual sunflowers, virtual Happy Monday greetings, and bumper stickers await you... every-single-day. Annoying as hell, specially when you get cross eyed with boredom clicking the 'Ignore Request' button repeatedly.

4. The What is Facebook? User
If they can't tell you four functions of a cell phone, they should not be allowed to use the internet. The end.

3. The Under 18s
Someone show these kids something beyond the digital world. Please! No, I do not want to be their friend and babysit them online, no, I do not want to look at their endless gang 'V" sign pose mobile uploads, and no I do not want to read schweet-songbird is I hate boys updates every few minutes. And for the idiots over 18 who do this... Grow the hell up!

2. The Daily Profile Picture Changer
Need I say more?

And the winner is....

1. The I Party for Facebook User
My absolute favorite annoying type. It's all about status updates... and they're your typical Look-at-me-and-what-a-fabulous-life-I-have kind. Every day it's Party-animal is going to party tonight woohoo, Party-animal has TWO dinner parties to attend tonight.. AND an after dinner thing TOO, Party-animal is partying it up wid sum cool people she doesn't know from Adam YeeeHaww! Party-animal is having breakfast and planning her I-just-finished-my-period-party, Party-animal is exhausted from the fifty six parties she attended this month. And if that's not enough to burn your brain cells, you get to see pictures of Party-animal in drunk poses, with other fugly party animals, all dressed in 'fuck me' sandals, and midriff rolls of flab revealing tank tops, mascara streaked across sweat covered cheeks and wide, lipstick stained toothy grins galore. One sentence describes this kind best... No social life in high school and college.

If you have an annoying Facebook friend type I haven't mentioned, leave me a comment and tell me about them.

Shameless plug: If you like this post, share it with your friends by clicking your network button below. ty.

M is for 'Mom', Not 'Maid'

Ms. Nosey: Hello
Bad Ass Mom: Hi
MN: I'm Ms. Nosey
BAM: I'm Bad Ass Mom
*
*
*
MN: So, do you work?
BAM: I'm home with the kids
MN: That's great
BAM: (Silently): 10, 9, 8, 7
MN: Do you have a maid?
BAM: No
MN: No?
BAM: No
MN: Why NOT?
BAM: Don't need one
MN: But then **gasp** who does all your housework?
BAM: I do it myself
MN: Yourself?
BAM: Myself
MN: And you also look after the kids?
BAM: Yeah
MN: Who helps you?
BAM: No one really... I have to go now.
MN: So when do you plan to get a real job?
*
*
*
BAM: When bitches like you are thrown out of the workplace and given your rightful place in padded cells, with hourly electric shock treatments.
MN: What?
BAM: Never mind.. Where do you work?
MN: I don't work!
BAM: You don't?
MN: No, I don't
BAM: You stay home with your kids?
MN: Yes!
BAM: And you have a maid?
MN: I have two, one to clean and cook, and one for the children.

BAM rolls her eyes, all the way home.

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Blog No Evil

For the last few weeks, running around in my head, and stopping briefly to gnaw at my brain, has been a tiny little question. Are the Queen B and her clan deserving of a place on my blog?

Who are they? You might ask. Well, all I will say at this point is that around five years ago, I solemnly swore to love, honor and respect a member of their family for the rest of my life. After which the clans seriously parted and traveled long distances in their minds, to each reach their emotional comfort zones of estrangement. It's their most comfortable form of living, so don't judge them (honestly, don't do it, because I've done everyone's share of judging in the last five years).

For years now I've successfully managed to honor the clan's unspoken rule of must-keep-distance-at-all-costs. They however take it one step further with Must-also-stick-our-collective-noses-as-far-up-the-distant-clan's-business-as-we-possibly-can. I love that it gives me so much writing material, all of which so far has stayed firmly in the far recesses of my mind. I would attempt to put it all in a book, but I'm afraid it would become an international bestseller, make me into a billionaire like J.K. Rowling (maybe bigger and better, because my book would be reality which seems like fantasy), and probably cause many daughters-in-law to commit murder, and wipe out the crap ass MIL population of this world, leaving behind only the nice MILs who would insist everyone in the family call their DILs "Your Majesty"

If you're wondering when I'm going to get to the point, I'm not. There is no point, and with the outlaws, I don't think there ever could be one. Just mindless babble about mindless stuff in a halfway decent babbly way. One day (soon) I'll just go bat shit crazy and tell you what I really think of them... specially the Queen B.

Must You Match?

Curiouser and curiouser I get about married couples who like to wear matching clothes. It also grates on my last nerve when I see them dressed up all spiffy and nice in color coordinated ensembles. There's a particular couple I have in mind, or rather can't get out of my mind because of the incessant pictures I come across of them both wearing matching outfits. OMFG, they would be hilarious if they weren't so pathetic. She wears a yellow dress, he wears a yellow tie.... if her shoes have polka dots, so will his shirt. WTF? And they are not in their seventies, now that would probably be cute, what with their white hair and soft folded skin. But people in their thirties? Come on! It's just plain weird, not to mention loserish.

Who in the world would want to match with their husband, or wife for an event which is not their own wedding? Who? The last time I dressed up in my signature I-can't-think-of-anything-else-to- wear-and-can't-be-bothered-to-go-through-my-entire-closet black cropped pants and a sleeveless top, and saw my husband also dressed all in black, I almost insisted he change his clothes.. But didn't because we were already late. I honestly felt like a freak for the rest of the evening, and maybe spent time with him in two minute intervals. OK I'm exaggerating, I spent almost all my time with him like the dutiful wife I am. But really... It's not like I planned our outfits weeks in advance or spent hours sorting through ties which matched my pumps. Who the fuck does that? Attention whores, that's who. By the way, you tarty dressed to the nines moms still gasping in shock that I don't plan my outfits weeks in advance, shut the hell up, some of us don't have nannies or hands on grandparents available to babysit, while we spend days in clothing stores.

So, back to matching couples, in their thirties. They really need to only do this crap at Halloween or fun dress up parties, or maybe Christmas pictures. And REALLY not drag their kids into their whole kinky shit with the whole bridal party look. It's insanity! Look at us, we're a family of individuals, just call us the Von Trapps. Blech!

What's in a Name?

Time for a change, and here's my new blog name. I love it and really don't care if no one else does, because if nothing else, it's honest and describes how I feel when I blog. I achieve bliss with lots and lots and lots of coffee. I know my husband will read this and go What? She doesn't achieve bliss with me? Our children? And some of you are also reading this and going Her blog brings her peace? What a loser! Yeah sure it does, even though I adore the lovey dovey crap of marriage and family. Any mother knows (don't lie now) that the real, true, bliss of some quiet time, with no kids, and no husband, even for a few minutes, with your beverage of choice is second to none.

Oh and by the way, I'll be working on my image header next, because I don't live in NYC and feel like a fraud having that image at the top of my page. I would also love it ,if you hooked up with me on Twitter and/or Facebook... You can find the links on the right.

Shameless plug for followers now over, it's time for me to get going, and enjoy the rest of my Sunday where there is more focus on kids than there is on caffeine.

OCD - My Life Partner

My husband takes second place to this one, and I feel he will always have to. I have no idea where I get it, tried to research it, but then my three ring binder (color coded and indexed alphabetically) got too full of "How to Recognize Obsessive Compulsive Disorder" lists and what not, so I had to burn it and resign myself to the truth that there is no hope for me. I can generally manage to contain it, specially after four plus years with twins. Now, I pick up toys and arrange them by type and size on the shelves after the kids are down for the night, I do laundry on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays at 9am exactly (when they're in school). So, it's under control. Ah... control, the story of my life!

Anyway, so my OCD has now apparently decided it hates my blog skin. So, I've been trying to fix it and make it perfect, but it's not perfect yet... at least O doesn't think so. Thankfully, there are some wonderful designers out there who give away their layouts for free, so I'm looking. I even have a system, where I check into their sites and browse through each category for about ten minutes each, and after I've downloaded about five or six layouts, I try them out. It's all planned and perfect, but not perfectly perfect.... Yet!

Mommy Liar, Pants on Fire!

Are you a Mom? If so, good. This one's for you. If you're not one yet, or you're a dad, read this anyway.

So mommies... Life is hard right? You have kids who's needs you have to meet, car pools, lunch bags, early mornings, breakfast, a husband, no husband, laundry, dinner yada yada, you get the picture. So, clearly it's impossible for you to be happy and cheerful all the time? Of course it is. There are days when you just want to yell "Shut the fuck up" and really, really wish everyone would. I know I do and I'll be damned if I lie about it and constantly give the impression that life is just one big bottomless bowl of yummy ice-cream.

It is not, so shut up and stop lying (directed at the mothers who do). Life is often full of crap, admit it and get on with it already.

Stop with the incessant I love my kids, they're the light of my life, I can't imagine life without them. Sure you can... you secretly imagine yourself lying on a beach, sipping daquries (or other drink of choice) secure in the knowledge that right then, they're annoying the hell out of grandma, but you don't care because you have a full body massage scheduled in half an hour. Liar, liar, pants on fire!

Stop constantly reaffirming vocally how much you love your husband. How much do you love him when he throws his dirty clothes on the bedroom floor, because his lazy ass can't be bothered opening the laundy hamper? How much do you love him then? Do you also love him like you love cuddly toys when he's snoring on the couch, with the TV blaring and you're making dinner amidst a kid riot? Please, stop lying!

There is no such thing as the perfect life, perfect kids, the perfect husband. And here's a thought, there's also no such thing as the perfect wife and mother. (I can almost hear the roar of disapproval from the perfect mommy camp, they'll probably send me a letter of protest on embossed, scented lilac colored stationery.) So, all you delusional women with Compulsive Liar Disease. Cure yourselves! I'm tired of your I have the bestest life, because I have the bestest children, from the bestest husband in the whole wide world. Gag, puke and gag again. Stop the madness! When your kid is being a brat, which is often, suck it up and admit it. Children are the biggest brats known to any species in this galaxy, and making them out to be less than that makes you look like an idiot. Give them some credit, they could win competitions, if there were competitions titled What the Hell do You Think You're Doing? instead of those dumb kiddie pagents they hold for overly made up kids with overly obsessed parents.

I know (well sort of know) this woman who's kids are perfect. Their screeches during tantrums sound like bluebirds singing, their fights are like lovers wispering in the moonlight, they have only ever spilled a drop of water on their clothes. Bull fucking shit! You need threpay lady and you need it fast, because heaven forbid you ever snap... well, read the papers about parents who snap.

Why the obsession to put up a perfect front? Who makes up these stupid rules? Stupid, insecure people, that's who. And, I for one would like to slap them upside the head. They're ruining it for the rest of us who don't give a good goddamn about being vocal when things aren't looking up. Some of them actually have the audacity to look down on those who don't tackle life with the same denial skills they have. Well, I say screw them. Whether, you're a mom of multiples, one singleton, seven children and very specially a new mother, remember, everyone loves their kids, bends over backwards for their families, loves thier husbands and tries to love their MILs. But we love them faults and all, and nowhere does it say we're not great mothers if we admit our life is sometimes very, very hard or even just plain sucks.

If it doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger. And one day it will make you into one hell of a mom, (if you don't whine all the time. Seriously, don't whine all the time... let it out and get on with it). It's so much better than being a Living-in-denial-and-compulsively-lying-perfect-mother-figure-who-could-be-one- cup-of-spilled-juice-away-from-having-a-complete-nervous-breakdown.

Now go tell your kids they drive you bat-shit crazy!

I Hate Text Speak - Translation: I H8 Txt Spk

This rant has been a long time coming. Right from about the time thirty something women decided they couldn't live without a cell phone. I completely get why they need one, what with me being thirty something and a woman myself. I use my cell phone for a number of important things like sending text messages to my husband in dire emergencies Where the hell are you? Need bread for sandwiches or Will you be late? Good, I'm not cooking so get some take out or sending a few messages to my mother Kids fine, just ate lunch, off to nap. If I don't send her a message she calls to ask if all is OK because she hasn't ***gasp*** heard from me all day. Then the kids start demanding to talk to her and fight over who talks first. It all gets very loud and unbearable, so sending her a few messages keeps me sane.

Plus, the kids use my cell phone to call her every night before they go to sleep, so there's another use. Other than that, I more or less ignore my cell phone when not updating my Twitter and Facebook. I make an attempt to answer calls, I really do. When my phone rings, I look at it and will myself to answer it. Unfortunately my will to answer it battles with my will to not answer it and the latter wins. Can't be helped, all my wills are very strong and fight to the death.

So, people have begun to text message me instead, in the hopes that I will respond. I don't. Why? Well, because about 99% of those text messages are not in any language I understand. It's not English, that's for sure, not Urdu or even any of the local dialects. So yeah, it's this stupid teeny bopper language called 'Text Speak" which loosely translated means We're the laziest generation ever and can't even be bothered learning English. Which is fine with me, but what's not fine with me is when people well into their 30s and beyond, start using this damn new age language and expect everyone else to just get it and love it like mothers love quiet time.

A friend sent me this the other day der cums a point n yr lyf wen u realiz hu maters, hu nvr did, n hu alw wl. So dnt wori bout ppl frm yr pst, ders a resin y dey didnt mke 8 2 yr fucha.

OK what? I responded with Umm thanks, next time just send me the English translation. LOL (Added the LOL to sound like I had some freakin clue as to what I was talking about, but I soon realized that abbreveation know how is not in the same league as full fledged text fucking speak) She sent me a text back O cum on, mov wid da tymes. Well, fuck you too, you older than I am hag who thinks helping to butcher the English language is "keeping up with the times" T-I-M-E-S not T-Y-M-E-S. Why the hell would you replace the i with a y? Does it save you time? Does it sound easier in your egg head? And what the hell is da? Isn't that German for there? Why are adults behaving like 15 year olds? Why is my otherwise very open minded self not getting this at all?

So, I turn to Facebook for some sanity, which by the way has more or less become a sort of safe heaven for me online. I enjoy spending time networking and ocassionally taking nonsensical quizzes about which perfume best represents my personality. And status updates are fun to respond to as well. But, more and more I see status updates like XYZ s haVn A1 tyMe liStniN 2 sUm kEwl muZc or Whn u ck me, u wl fynd me sez da Lord.

Right, they win, they even translate scripture. And, I am just going to be content sticking a fork in my eye everytime I read their shit. Then rinse my eye out with bleach.

There Is No Mute Button Is There?

On the way to school, during an argument about traffic lights which didn't make sense to me because all I heard was No, yes, I said NO, you're wrong, Am not, are too, NO, YES, thump, thump, thump, YES, NO.... Which led to...

Me: OK now, everyone QUIET
H: How long do we have to stay quiet?
Me: Till we reach school
H: All of us?
Me: Yes
B: Who taught you to be quiet mommy?
Me: Grandma
H: Did her mommy teach her to be quiet?
Me: Shhhh Quiet
H to B: I think grandma learned to be quiet all by herself
B: Me too... Hey do you think grandma taught daddy to be quiet too?
H: I dunno... Mommy, did grandma teach daddy to be quiet?
Me: No, his mommy did
H: Was he five years old then?
Me: No, now be quiet
B: But we've almost reached school
H: We're almost there, we're almost there
B: Can we talk now mommy?
Me: ***sigh***

Why didn't they each arrive in this world with a remote control? Why?