As though the tights alone weren't an enormous enough crime against humanity?
Then to have my bootie (the same bootie that The Servant claims to need to squeeze because "it's too cute") spanked, be placed in a corner, then PHO-TO-GRAPHED while in an obvious state of torment?
Have I not suffered enough?
When is someone going to get me the number to CPS?
I am certain my caseworker will understand my need to:
1.) Empty the 80 or so pop cans out of the front closet from their containers, five minutes before the real estate agent shows up with potential sellers.
2.) Incessantly repeat, "mom, mom, mom, mom, mom", even while mom is saying, "what"?
3.) Throw items out the car window, then scream that I want them, forcing the Servant to turn around, even though we are late to Big A's game.
4.) Run from the Servant. Down a hill. At Big A's ball game. During which the Servant is supposed to be assisting with the coaching. Screaming the entire way, thereby guaranteeing all eyes are upon us, eliminating the otherwise certain spanking I'd have obtained.
5.) When caught, needing to slap the Servant in the face.
6.) Unraveling an entire roll of toilet paper, then trying to flush it down the toilet while the Servant is folding laundry.
7.) Opening nail polish (that, might I add, the Servant left out after painting my toenails), and dumping it on the floor.
8.) Stripping, then running out on the front porch naked. The Servant must learn not to leave the front door open. Ever. Even if it's just to clean up the front porch.
9.) Screaming when forced to be clothed again, kicking the Servant, throwing my milk, and tossing the bowl of cottage cheese across the floor.
Plus, the first person to provide me with the number will win a grand prize of a weekend with me.
Where are you?
Wait. I can be charming. I swear that I can.