Showing posts with label Damn right you should feel bad for my kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Damn right you should feel bad for my kids. Show all posts

Monday, January 28, 2008

Tattle Tale

Today, from the moment he got home from school, Big Kid was whining and bitching about everything little kid did or touched.

It didn't take long of the constant tattling for me to completely lose my patience with it:

Big Kid: Mudder! Mudder! He weft a cwacker on da back porch. I just founded dis cwacker out dere.

Ashley: You know what? That's it. little kid, come here. I'm putting his shoes on him, driving him to the zoo, taking the boat out to monkey island and leaving him there. I just can't take it anymore, every little second hearing you tell me what things he is doing wrong.

Big Kid: (instantly getting pale and eyes filling with tears) You're gonna take him to da zoo and weave him? By himself?

Ashley: Yes, you think I should, don't you? You're the one that keeps telling me every single thing he does wrong. It's always something, all day long, little kid is doing this, little kid is doing that. I just can't deal with it anymore, maybe the monkeys will take better care of him.

Big Kid: (starting to cry) Mama, no. No, don't do dis to wittle kid. He is dest a baby. He cannot wiv wif da monkeys, mama, he cannot. (full on crying)

Ashley: Do you love him?

Big Kid: (nodding tearfully) Yes, I do.

Ashley: Then get off his case, okay? I love him too. He's not going anywhere. He is a naughty little baby though and he gets into things all day long. Unless it is something that could hurt him or hurt you or break something...I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear if he gave Heidi Louise a cracker, I don't want to hear if he opened the junk drawer, I don't want to have to hear if he brings the food processor into the family room again. I usually see it. I'm choosing my battles. I appreciate when you tell me when he's standing on chairs or has a knife or is covered in food coloring, but otherwise I don't need to know every little thing. Okay?

Big Kid: So you're not gonna weave him anywhere, wight?

Ashley: No, of course not. I love him.

Big Kid: I wuv him too. He is my bery bestest bubba in da whole world.

Sweet, huh? Wouldn't you know I had to use the same threat again later that night? Instant tears again too. Yeah, I know, totally mean of me. Some of you may recognize this new parenting tactic as being inspired by the time I threatened to put little kid in his parrot costume and leave him at the parrot cage and got a similar response. I'm shocked that this gets such a reaction, but I'll be keeping it in my back pocket for sure.

I'm not above threats, lies and scary stories to get a little peace and quiet around here.