Jenna is 9. Jenna is becoming hormonal. We should all pack and move to another country before it gets out of hand. Oh wait...too late.
On Sunday night, Jenna was in a real state. A real state of WHACKED OUT, is what it was. She had just come back from a really bad Girl Scout camping exprience, and apparently, while at GS camp, she contracted a major case of hormone-itis.
Sunday evening, she sat at the breakfast table, bawling, because of the so-called 'nature' center this campground had. Apparently, there was a bobcat display that, according to Jen's description, was 'just a head and a bunch of clumpy fur lying around.' Now, in MY head, i'm picturing a diseased carcass with tufts of fur that have been ripped off it's body just blowing around in a box--the kid has a way with descriptions. Regardless, the bobcat display bothered her. HORRIBLY. Horribly enough, in fact, that SMM and I had to listen to her cry about it for about 25 minutes. And not just cry, but well up with tears and get all slobbery and messy about it. I must see this bobcat exhibit. Somewhere in between the sobfest, I started making spaghetti for dinner [yes, this sounds random, but remember this little tidbit]. Jenna offered to help, and I said okay--simply because i wanted her to stop crying. But THEN, because we were on the subject of 'nature' exhibits, she started talking about the Africa exhibit at the museum. THAT started another whole round of sobs. She hadn't realized, up until this point, I guess, that those were REAL lions/cheetahs/etc. that have been immortalized through the fun of filling 'em full of stuffing. So we spent the next 15 minutes telling her that no, people do NOT go out and shoot these animals simply for the fun of stuffing them and putting them in a museum. She FINALLY started to settle down.
I shot a glance over to the stove and saw that the water was boiling, "Oh, the water's boiling!" and I got up to throw the noodles in. Jen broke out into wailing tears and ran into the bathroom. SMM just looked at me like, "What the hell???"
"That's DEFINITELY hormonal," I said.
"I'm not ready for this," he said.
"You never will be."
Because, truthfully, no one is ready for the wrath of hormones. NO ONE. No one is safe.
I gave Jen a minute, then walked to the bathroom and opened the door. She was sitting up on the counter, hunched into a ball, sniffing. I put my hand on her shoulder, "Baby, what's wrong?"
"I should have KNOOOOOOWN!!!" she wailed.
"That the water was BOILING!!!" and more hysterical crying ensued. I tried not to laugh. I did well (patting myself on the back).
"Um...it's okay that you didn't know the water was boiling. I'm not mad that you didn't know. Really, it's okay."
"Okay..." [sob, sob, sob] "I think i've just had a really disappointing weekend."
I am SO not ready for this.