Casper went through a phase where she wrote me little hate mash notes, at about 5. My favorite was "you are a big fat hors[e]". The spelling was usually so adorable it was hard to be upset by them.

I went through this same phase, and my mother saved all the notes so she could show them to me when I had my own kids. They are AWFUL, but in a funny way.

The last straw of my worst parenting day ever (so far!) was when, after HOURS of Dylan being a total pain in the ass in that way that only really smart stubborn 4 year-olds can be, I blurted out in frustration "Why are you so well behaved with Daddy and not me??!?!?!?!!!" and he answered without missing a beat "Because I like Daddy more than I like you." Ouch.

There was never any screaming of any sort in my relationship with my family. Silence was the mode. My older sisters would yell and shout, but I don't remember if anyone said they hated anyone else. When the drama started, I was in a book.

I didn't have to be really responsible for anyone as a kid. I slipped through as anonymously as I could.

So I'm just going to sit next to you, and we can rock back and forth and twitch a lot, how 'bout that plan?

I'll bring the tea and chocolate, you bring the devilbunnies.

I blurted out in frustration "Why are you so well behaved with Daddy and not me??!?!?!?!!!" and he answered without missing a beat "Because I like Daddy more than I like you." Ouch.

Oh yeah. My favorite was when Jake said to me, completely seriously, at about two and a half, "What are you for?"

I don't remember if I ever told either of my parents that I hated them. I'm betting I didn't, because I was very invested in being a Good Kid.

That's me!

I blurted out in frustration "Why are you so well behaved with Daddy and not me??!?!?!?!!!" and he answered without missing a beat "Because I like Daddy more than I like you." Ouch.

Oof.

I don't remember if I ever told either of my parents that I hated them. I'm betting I didn't, because I was very invested in being a Good Kid.

That was so me! I was fairly convinced that making my dad in any way disappointed was the WORST THING I could ever possibly do. And a pit of shame might open under my feet or something. Shit, I should call or something.

That was so me! I was fairly convinced that making my dad in any way disappointed was the WORST THING I could ever possibly do. And a pit of shame might open under my feet or something. Shit, I should call or something.

Ugh, the fear of making them disappointed, the pit of shame under your feet. Yep, I am very familiar with those feelings.

There are times I am amazed that I am able to function. But I suppose that my particular issues ensure I function, even when I shouldn't.

My sister said "I hate you." I just tried to keep all the plates in the air or retreated to my books. I too cannot stand being around people who are angry, and I only seem to be able to get angry at other drivers.

Ugh, the fear of making them disappointed, the pit of shame under your feet.

Some of the things Jake has said to me over the years? I couldn't ever imagine saying them to my parents when I was a kid, even angry. There were lines I did *not* cross, and a kind of person I did not want to be in their eyes. It's baffling to see how untrue that is for a lot of kids today.

And it's not that I was forbidden from expressing my feelings at all. But saying "I'm mad about this" and saying "I fucking hate you both" are two different things.

I don't think it's a kids-today thing, or at least not entirely so: my step-sis was entirely capable of yelling "I hate you" and slamming the door. For me, it was totally a trauma thing -- after my mom's leaving + mental illness + death, I didn't exactly blame myself, but I externalized it as some kind of wackassed sacred duty that I had to OMG protect Dad from any further emotional stresses.

President Obama is here in town and paid cash for a to-go order of 5 chili dogs, 4 regular dogs and a cheeseburger at the Varsity. Apparently no one explained to him the importance of onion rings and a frosted orange.