Ordinarily our children get along.
Today, however, the First Year Boy is In A Mood. The First Year Girl is not far behind. One of their morning chores is to make my bed- the reason this is their morning chore is that one of them is usually still in my bed when I get up in the morning. They make it together. For some reason, one side is preferred over the other (I have just learned the reason and it is so silly it is worthy of another post at a later time).
Today the FYG came to me in tears because she called the favored side of the bed first and so the FYB was calling her names. This is provoking. What, I ask, did he call you?
She sniffles, “He called me a liar…”
This is very bad. He shall be reprimanded.
She continues in tears, “and a joker…”
This is, um, interesting, but I maintain a straight face. Parenting is not for the faint of heart.
She sobs out the last and most vile insult, “And he called me a peanut butter sandwich!”
Oh. Wash the child’s mouth out with soap, a peanut butter sandwich, indeed. Let the beatings commence. Let there be weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. I am horrified. Reprimands and scoldings are in order.
The weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth begins- that would be me, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh. The harder I try, the more I laugh.
I am not taking this seriously enough for the First Year Girl. The First Year Boy has been made to apologize for his intentions, which were to hurt his sister’s feelings.
I rashly tell the First Year Girl that there are much worse things to be called than a peanut butter sandwich. Naturally, she wonders what those things are.
Parenting is not for the stupid and shortsighted, either. My poor children.=)
Welcome Karnival of the Kidz viewers. You can read more about these two yahooligans here (our young lad thinks he’s a rajah), here (we have a tea party), and here (the First Year Boy and Girl are introduced to the Common Room blog audience).