Her name is Mary McCormack, and I am completely in love with her. And her honesty. Based on her appearance on Ellen today.
As soon as she uttered to host Ellen DeGeneres that her three year old daughter was "furious at me about something, who knows what" I stopped writing and took notice.
Ellen replied, "Yeah, the last time you were here, you were talking about the fact that she is..."
"Evil", says Mary.
She had me glued. The audience, in stitches.
And then, Mary adds... "No, I love her. I do love her. I love her! I just don't like her."
Hooked. Completely enamoured.
It sounded so like me, so resonated with my devilish/quasi-playful thoughts about my own daughter, that I found myself repeating it to hubby a mere few hours later. You see, a few hours ago, the following scene played out in this casa, right here.
Mummy (that'd be me) working all day, then cooks nutritious dinner, then picks up kids from daycare, then daughter has one of those hyperventilating tantrums in back of car when mummy is driving home because 'evil mummy' (I have actually been calling myself this for months) won't buy daughter evil hot chips from evil KFC, situated as we leave the daycare (damn you, evil shopping centre planners).
As mummy pops headphones in ears to drown out noise (my bestie taught me this trick - why, oh why have I only just starting using it?) we then arrive home and I bark at hubby to "deal with this".
So, Mary... I salute you. For calling it as you see it. Because when we'd all cooled down and I could see my precious girl for what she really is (a precocious, sassy, funny little three year old) I loved her all over again.
Lashings of humour, people! That's the only way I get through the madness.
How do you get through the day without tears (yours). And do you too have an 'evil' child? Share!