The word NO is not such a bad word. It’s the worst word.
I don’t hate it when it’s used in a matter-of-fact sort of way.
Do you like peas? No.
Is it raining outside? No.
Does this make me look fat? No.
But when that little word is said using a high pitched squeal like my kid uses, it is officially the worst word in the English language.
When I was younger, the word “nothing” annoyed my mom. (Which just made me say it more…just to annoy her. I know, I’m being punished for that now.) She would ask me what was wrong, and I would say “nothing” when clearly it was “something.” (Apparently I still do this to my husband.) I never understood how a word could annoy someone so much. And then I gave birth to my “mini-me.”
“Little Ricky” is my clone (personality wise). I see it. I don’t admit it, but I see it. Because we are so much alike, we clash in most situations. He really knows how to get a rise out of me because…he is me.
These past few years, “Little Ricky” has been in this “I know it all” stage. (At least I’m still hoping it’s a stage.) It really irritates my husband. I guess it’s because there are two of me in the house and one of me is more than enough. To me that’s nothing. What really gets me is the “Noooooooooo!”
That darn word. It’s not a scream. It’s more of a whine. Noooooooooo!
Please take out your book and read. Noooooooooo!
It’s time to take a shower. Noooooooooo!
Before going outside, please clean the playroom. Noooooooooo!
Noooooooooo! Noooooooooo! Noooooooooo!
It makes me not even want to say anything to him.
THE. WORST. WORD. EVER.