Sometimes your kids ask you questions that are completely reasonable bearing in mind that they are (in fact) small humans that are inquisitive and learning about the world. I try my best to be patient with these questions and answer with appropriate responses. But sometimes, the internal monologue in my head is not so nice.

Here are some examples of questions my kids have asked me that make my head want to fucking explode.

1. “Mommy, what’s your name?”
All right, I understand you’ve only been on this planet for three years, but you’ve known me literally the entire time you’ve been here. Are you fucking kidding me with this one? It’s mommy, okay? Or, if you want to get all technical, it’s Sarah. But we’ve gone over this shit several times.

2. “Mommy, he hit me.”
Yes, my kids fight. Usually I’ll tell the one who has been hit to say “I don’t like that.” or “Please stop.” But again, in the confines of my brain what I’m really thinking is “You turn around and tell your brother to stop being an asshole.”

3. “What’s that?”
Yes, we love to identify objects in this house. Labeling is how children learn. But I have told you what the light switch was 400 times. At this rate, you’re never going to keep a job, and I’m going to have to support your ass until your 40 and living in my basement. By the way, I’m not paying your student loans.

4. “Where are we going?”
Whoa! I thought I was bad with directions. Do I need to buy you a personal GPS? We have gone over this 30 times. We are going to the playground. You know the playground, we’ve been there before. This should be old hat for you.

5. “Mommy, where are my pants?”
There’s this thing called a dresser where clothes live. If you investigate this piece of furniture further, I can guarantee you will find exactly what you’re looking for. While we’re at it, “where’s my free time?” “What happened to my bank account?” and “Will I ever get to have sex uninterrupted again?”

6. Why?
Shut the fuck up.

For all you parents out there who are losing your minds with the repetitive nature of children’s questions…I have no consolation for you, because it just keeps going. My mind is broken, but not as broken as my wallet.