AITA for Wanting Respect from Someone Who Just Wiped Boogers on Me?

r/AmItheAsshole
MomJeans&Meltdowns 13 hr. ago

AITA for wanting respect from someone who just wiped boogers on me?

Hey guys. So, I (F36) live with my (M4) four-year-old, who has the hearing range of a bat when it comes to ice cream trucks or distant sirens but goes completely deaf the moment I ask him to pick up his toy cars. The floor and coffee table are his kingdom, and he is a tiny, sticky-fingered dictator who rules with chaos and fart jokes. At this point, I’m just a glorified butler with a snack cart. And honestly? I’ve had it.

Just the other day, while I was working upstairs in my office like a responsible adult, this child had the audacity to scream — from the comfort of the living room couch — for me to bring him his milk. He acts like he’s entitled to snacks every 60 seconds per the Toddler Labor Agreement, Section Hangry, Clause Always, and don’t even get me started on bath time. You’d think I asked him to walk barefoot on Legos, not rinse the layer of playground grime off his tiny body. Just yesterday, his feet were caked in dirt, and he refused to shower.

Dinner time? A battlefield. If it’s not mac & cheese, chicken nuggets, or pizza, all hell breaks loose. The moment anything green hits his plate, it’s like I’ve personally betrayed him. I’m not even sure he knows vegetables are actual food. Honestly, I don’t think he’s ever consumed a vegetable without being bribed, threatened with no ‘zert (dessert), or tricked by my husband and me. At this point, I’d sooner get him to eat food under the couch cushions than a string bean. The worst part? He thinks he and I are in cahoots. “We are not eating broccoli, Daddy!” Thanks, kid.

It is exhausting. And let’s not forget the constant reminders that his arms are not tissues and to grab a GD Kleenex.

Listen, I’m not asking for much. I don’t need a parade or a gold medal in parenting — I just want a little appreciation and a smidge of respect from the tiny human I keep alive with snacks and unconditional love. I pour my heart into PB&Js, I wipe butts and tears, and sometimes — sometimes — I even help him brush his teeth without muttering, “You know how to do this” under my breath. Is a “thank you, Mom” really too much to ask?

Apparently, yes. Yes, it is.

I don’t know what do you guys think. Am I the asshole?