Why I’m Tired at the End of the Day

It’s because of stuff like this (that I can’t pretend isn’t hilarious).

Everytime we go to Blockbuster (which is quite often) Eden asks for this silly candy toy that has a fan on top abd spins at the push of a button. Every time I say no. I’m not paying $5 for a stick of candy, and it’s really the principle of the thing at this point.

So last night we go, drop off our online movies and pick up new ones. While I’m waiting to pay, I heard Eden ask (of freaking course) for the candy fan. I say no (and totally agree that parents should have buttons to push with automatic responses. I could really use a ‘no’ button), and then I turn around and she has her hair all wound up in the fan of the toy.

O… M… G.

I start trying to unwind it, but it’s a big, knotted, swirly mess. She starts screaming and grabbing her head. I have no choice but to ask the girl behind the desk for a pair of scissors so I could cut it out. So what do you do when a sales associate is staring at you while you’re holding a candy fan with hair poking out all over it?

You have to buy it.

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