The Circus of Proverbs

I keep seeing the same proverb. A reminder, a good one.



Which is great.

Except I keep hearing the noise coming from the back of the car.

The fighting over the piece of lego.

The “you’re not the boss of me” and the “that’s not fair” or the “you’re such a doofus, DOOFUS!”

And at night-time after I’ve walked up the stairs for the fourth time with a vein pulsing from the side of my forehead after screaming GO. TO. BED. When I’ve loaded the washing machine, picked up the stray sock, and scrubbed the toilet bowl.

I am forced to face the fact.

That this IS my circus, and they ARE very much my monkeys.

Here’s an old Australian proverb, or perhaps a proverb from an old Australian?

Every time you feel yourself getting pulled into other people’s nonsense: thank the lord for vasectomies, wine and chocolate.


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