I wasn’t expecting nor prepared for the first mouthing off I got. It was like being pistol whipped. Except I needed to turn away from laughing my ass off.
Vman was three years old. We were in the bathroom, and he was mad he had to get ready for bed. He had successfully strewn his clothes from the day all over the upstairs and was buck naked, urinating in the toilet. Seething mad, he looked straight at me and, pointing into the toilet bowl, declared, “I flush you down the potty. I flush you down.”
The shock of being told off, the adorableness of his naked booty and the determination that, if he was a bit taller, he would actually wrestle me into the toilet threw me into a fit of giggles. I forced myself to look away and swallow the howls of laughter fighting to get out.
Let the games begin, right? To have any chance in the game of parenthood you’ve got to have a thick skin. But some curt comments cut more than others. Vman has always been a rough and tumble kid and now really knows how to throw a verbal punch to the gut.
Now my snuggly little Hbomb has developed an acerbic tongue that stings. Hbomb, for all of his easy going exterior, really knows how to dig in his heels and refuse to budge. For the most part, I’ve managed his crossed arms, determined no’s and stomping off. But last week he dealt a blow I just couldn’t laugh off.
I had asked Hbomb to get dressed for the umpteenth time when he had had enough of me. My sweet, loving, cuddly preschooler stared me square in the eyes and with venom said, “I have no mommy.” The room began to spin and transported me to all of those low-budget movies where the parent declares “You are dead to me” after the teenager has done irreparable damage.
No mommy? No mommy? I had been excommunicated, cast aside, disowned by my own child… Just for trying to get him dressed. I had just been told to screw off. What had the world come to?
While it would be lovely to believe this tongue lashing was an isolated incident, we all know better. Although Hbomb is a gentle child, piss him off and the gloves come off. And Vman continues to hone his ability to push buttons and give me a tongue lashing. Hmmm. Can’t wait ’til we hit the teenage years.
Other ways my young kids have told me screw off:
- I’m going to go slam my door (a personal fave of mine)
- Why did you have kids anyway?
- I’m telling Dad
- You suck
- You don’t know anything about kids
- You’re a booty butt
- I’m not listening. I’m not listening (with fingers in ears)
- Go walk the plank
- I wish Daddy was home and not you
- I love Daddy but not you
- You weren’t supposed to have babies
- You got the wrong kid
Do any of these sound familiar from your school-age child? How has your child told you to screw off? And did it make you laugh, hurt your feelings or just get you madder?
- The Battle of Hand Washing (muddymonkeys.wordpress.com)
- Forty, Fabulous and Fit? (thejennyevolution.com)