So, it’s mid-morning…breakfast is over, and it’s not lunchtime yet. You’re hungry, and there are three leftover hotdogs in the fridge.
You start to microwave one and one kid yells “whatcha making I want one!” from her bedroom. Your spouse yells “you can’t just make YOURSELF a snack” from the living room. So then YOU yell “Anyone want a hotdog?” from the kitchen. Three kids yell back “YES!” and one yells back “I want Ramen Noodles.”
You make all three hot dogs, with mustard, ketchup, sauerkraut or whatever, to three different demands. One kid eats theirs. One kid takes two bites and throws theirs in the garbage. One kid licks theirs and gives it to the dog. The fourth kid is still crying because they want Ramen Noodles. Four hours later the dog has diarrhea on the carpet because it ate an entire fucking hot dog.
So you’ve done 20 minutes of work, somebody’s crying, you’re still hungry and now you have to clean up dog shit from the living room.
This is parenting.