What Do You Mean You Don't Want to Go?
Alternate title: Oh YOU ARE GOING
I started out a fine morning. I made pancakes.
Then as I was making the pancakes - the protest began.
The theme essentially was - she didn’t want to. I don’t think it mattered on the what, but for whatever reason she decided that she was not going to do it. It didn’t matter what the it was.
The “it” of the moment was the plan for the day. BW and the child were going to go for empanadas at a little corner restaurant that opened and meet a friend. For reasons I a not sure this was not up to the child’s future.
Let’s backup a bit here: She did not want to have either pancakes or empanadas.
I don’t think she’s our child. OF COURSE you want to go - what is wrong with you?
Cue the screaming from the child. We haven’t seen the screaming lately but it’s still here apparently and it reared it’s ugly head and boy is it ugly. The child gets bright red and as she settles down her face gets all splotchy. There’s no not telling she’s been crying.
So. The tablet went away. FOR THE DAY.
When that happens, she knows she’s on Dad’s shit list. Dad lets a lot slide but having a fit over not wanting to go out and eat for lunch with the ladies is not acceptable.
The rest of the day was good as gold, the ladies went for lunch and went to the craft supply store and then came home and well, crafted.
Me? I ubered in my nice quiet car with my coffee and music on. No screaming.
I have to admit I was afraid to come home, but the child knew she was on borrowed time and for the rest of the day was almost comically well-behaved.
Me? I had a salami sandwich in the car.
I did get to have pancakes for breakfast - so there’s that.
Until Next Time,
TH and Co.