Your Resistance is Futile

Grant is usually the most personable child I have ever known. Really, I'd say that even if I wasn't his mother. This past Thursday, however, was a different story. Aliens came and took his brain leaving a total jerk of a 4-yr old in his place.

I took Grant and his future bride, Olivia, to McDonald's after picking them up from pre-school to get ice cream and play until time to pick up the big kids at school. It was a nice day and all was well until time to leave the play place. Grant had eaten pretty much all of his ice cream. When I told them it was time to go, Grant ran over to eat any still-frozen bites of ice cream left in his cup. Then, I sent him to put on his socks and shoes. As he went to do so he noticed that I was heading to the trash can with his ice cream cup. He freaked the heck out! I let him take one drink of the melted ice cream and then firmly told him it was time to go, and that there was NO WAY he was taking that melted ice cream in the car. So, I threw it away. The ensuing drama was RI-DIC-U-LOUS! He was still whining and being generally pissy when we got home with the big kids. I reminded him of the rule in our house. The rule is: you may cry or whine all you like, but you must do it in your room so that we do not have to hear it. you may rejoin the family in the public spaces when you can be pleasant. This particular day he chose to take advantage of the whine and moan all you want portion of the deal. After the first hour, I saw him open his door and peak his head out.


I said, "You'd better not step one foot out of that room until you can be nice!"


He retreated back into his room. By the time I was back in the kitchen I realized he had resumed the seemingly incessant mantra of, " I waaaaa mmmyyy iiice creeeaaam baaaack!!"


So, I looked back down the hallway and saw him lying on the floor with his waist in the door frame, his top half in the hallway, and his bottom half in his room. (You see where this is going, yes?)


I said, "I told you that you had better stay in that room until you can be nice!"


He replied, "My feet are still in my room!" (Refer to my earlier instruction) Little smart ass!


However, he had followed the letter of the law if not the spirit, and so I chose not to fight a battle I didn't have the energy to win. (One of my cardinal rules of parenting!) I returned to helping Connor with his homework in the kitchen. A while later I realized it was quiet. I peered down the hallway to find this.


Would you believe he resumed his antics even when he woke up? And well into the evening after Rich's return home? What the heck got into him? Anyway, once he got himself under control, we reminded him that he would most assuredly NOT be getting ice cream any time in the near future. His tolerance for this part of the punishment was put to the test earlier than expected. Saturday night found me with a van equipped with a spare tire after a flat. All tires stores closed. Husband out of town per usual for all problems. It had been a very, very long day. So, I did what any pathetic, tired mom would do. Took them all to McD's for dinner. I must have looked especially haggard because one of the employees brought all the kids ice cream cones.


Grant told her, " I can't have one. I was ugly to my mom last time. I'm in trouble."


He patiently waited, without one single tiny complaint, while his brothers ate their cones. I was SO VERY PROUD of him. We went home and he never mentioned it. Then, while tucking him into bed, he asked me, "Mommy, I'm sorry I was bad when I wanted my ice cream back. I wasn't ugly today and I didn't cry when Jamie and Connor got ice cream. Can I have one next time?"


Yes, Grant, I think you can.