“But I don’t want scones!” she whined. “Can I have something else?”
She likes scones. She just doesn’t want scones.
“This is what I’ve planned for afternoon tea today. No problem if you don’t want any. You can wait for dinner,” I said frankly.
Sometimes I have choices for snacks, and sometimes it’s set. It’s just the way things are. This afternoon, I was offering scones with jam, and a fresh strawberry on top. Scones were on the menu, one of my other children had done a talk at school about the scone mixture. So, you see.
“But Muuuum!” STILL that voice.
“WOW, what a beautiful grateful attitude!” I said to her sarcastically. Being almost 10, she gets the humour now, which is handy.
“Muuuum. Can’t I have something else?” Again. That voice. Clearly, she was not happy about it.
Then I grabbed her in a spontaneously biggest of big hugs.
“I love you. Scones, scones, scones. You are sweet, like scones. Yummy, delicious scones. Hey! LOOK! HERE ARE SCONES!”
I know, the most ANNOYING of parents: that’s me.
I saw the reluctant smile tug at her face. The small triumph spurred me on.
“Don’t smile,” I teased. “Don’t laugh…D-O N-O-T L-A-U-G-H! Do NOT be happy. No-no happiness.”
“Muuuum,” her voice sounded different this time. Her small body, still in my arms, started to shake with giggles and I kissed her, maybe 10 — could have been 20 — times.
Sometimes I meet a sour attituide with a lashing of sarcastic humour, a lot of patronising love, and dose of reverse psychology. As I said: a most annoying parent…but perhaps that’s better than a cranky one? (Although, I’ve tried that one often enough too).
Psst. You know what? She came back for seconds.