Don’t let the following exchange fool you. Valuable lessons were learned about personal respect and appreciation for one another and what we have. Oh, yes. I’m almost sure of it.
Elizabeth: “Mommy, I’m going to have a party and you’re invited.”
Me: “Great, thanks.”
Elizabeth: “And Samantha, too.”
I brake as I come to a stop light.
Samantha: “Mommeee! You made my breakfast baggy fall to the floor!!”
Me: “I did not.”
Samantha: “Yes you did!”
Me: “Samantha, I braked normally and it flew off your lap,” I say while reaching behind the front seat to retrieve the breakfast baggy.
Samantha: “You made it fall!”
Me: “I did not!”
We pull away.
Elizabeth: “I want a party at school so everyone can come.”
Me: “Sounds good.”
I brake again for another stop light. Samantha’s baggy falls to the floor.
Samantha: “Mommeeee! You did it again!”
Me: “No I didn’t!”
Samantha: “Yes you did!”
Me: “Samantha, you can’t blame people every time something goes wrong. Stuff just happens -- it’s an accident.”
I reach around again to pick up the baggy, only this time it’s upside down and all the cereal falls out of it and onto the floor.
Samantha: “MOMMMMEEE!!!” She starts to cry. “You dropped my cereal on the floor!”
Me: “I’m sorry, it was an accident.”
Samantha: “I’m hungry. I want YOUR food!”
Me: “No way! You already ate half of yours and this bagel is all I get. You get a-whole-nother breakfast at school. They don’t serve me breakfast at work. ”
Samantha: “But I want more food now. You dropped my cereal!”
Me: “No, what I did was brake safely and then I pulled a muscle trying to get your baggy that YOU let fly off your lap because YOU weren’t holding on to it tightly! I was being helpful!”
Samantha: “Well... YOU’RE going to a Poo-Poo Party!”
Me: “Well that’s just GREAT, because I LOVE Poo-Poo and I can’t wait to go!”
We pull away and drive on in silence.
Elizabeth: “They don’t give you breakfast at work?”
Me: “Nope.”
Samantha: “You have a Poo-Poo work.”
Me: “Yep. I just move Poo-Poo around from one place to the other.”
It begins to drizzle. I turn on the wipers. Elizabeth is restless and makes a noise with her cup holder that involves lifting it up and banging it down and lifting it up and banging it down, faster and faster, louder and louder, until:
Me: “Elizabeth, please stop making that noise with your cup holder. Remember what happened last time?” (You know, the time I detached it and threw it into the trunk?)
Elizabeth: “Well,” she says, “I wanted someone to see my tattoo.”
And like the sound of a single hand clapping, or a tree falling in the woods when no one is around, I am enlightened.
It lasts until I get to work.
Comments
:)
Deb
sandiegomomma.com
When Matthew was that age I had a strict no-legos-in-the-car rule. But now it's really: Anything To Get Them In The Car.
I would love to be a fly on the window during your morning car ride.