It’s 10:45 and already one child is in tears. Not a good omen since he’s the only one at home right now. It seems he wants new shoes. And red Jell-O. Now. Even though there is a logical explanation why we can’t go (I need to be home when Justin’s bus arrives shortly.), as well as a dictatorial one (He doesn’t need new shoes. Or Jell-O.), he has gone into retaliation mode. Unfortunately his chosen methods have only harmed himself.
Pulling Penny’s leg backfired when she snapped at him, then left, taking a little McDonald’s toy he found in the car yesterday and has been carrying around, and chewed off a piece of it when I refused to take it from her and he wouldn’t do it himself.
Declaring that he didn’t like his “new” socks and scarf I bought for him two months ago, taking the socks off, and then going outside to never come back was not a well thought-out plan either. Even though by Minnesota standards it’s a nice day, it’s still pretty cold to be outside for any length of time, even in protest, without socks and shoes. He was back inside quickly.
Plan C could have caused some real damage had he not ratted himself out by coming over and defiantly telling me, “I put your bra down the vent.” I asked him which one, and he said, “The green one.” I had actually meant which vent, and I opened the one in his bedroom and found a teal foundation garment (we need to work on non-traditional color names), which I was able to pull out.
So as a last resort he went into the living room with his blanket, crying for both Daddy and Justin, laid down and watched Spongebob Squarepants. Pretty soon he was apologetic, and made me a heart with his fingers, signaling he was ready to make up.
“Mom,” he said. “When it’s my birthday I don’t want to see butterflies because they’re scary. They have eyes like bumble bees. Their real eyes.”
As of this writing, he is playing with Penny, who thankfully doesn’t hold grudges, and enjoys licking his face, probably because there were still waffle crumbs on it.
Can’t wait to see what the rest of the day brings.
© Jennifer Alys Windholz, 2012