As far as I can tell, Sweet P has the saddest sad face ever in the entire history of sadness. Causing that face to appear is akin to having your heart ripped out, stomped on by a linebacker in rusty golf cleats and then run over by 73 dump trucks full of broken glass just before a dog comes and pees on it.
Here is a sad face:
Fresh from this morning due to cereal envy in conjunction with Daddy's absence and failure to save her from Mean Mommy. Now keep in mind, this is not the full-on sad face. She has this frowny, quivering lip pout that makes me want to do anything to make it go away. Whole chocolate cake with sprinkles? Every toy in the world? A unicorn? Anything!!!
Instead, I have to be firm and follow through with the necessary parenting BS. (That stands for Blue Shirt, if you didn't know.) Below is a conversation Sweet P and I had recently at bedtime.
Me: I've been working on the rail-
Sweet P: No, no, Mommy! (*smack!)
Me: (Puts Sweet P down in the crib) No, you do not hit Mommy!
Sweet P: (Spectacular sad face complete with pouty-lip super frown and giant teardrops) Mooommeeeeeeeeeeee!
Me: (Feeling like a dried-up dog turd) You do not hit Mommy. In fact, don't hit anybody. That is not the way to express yourself.
Sweet P: (Frown and tears continue) Mommy rock?
Me: (Picks her back up and returns to the rocking chair) You do not hit people. No hit.
Sweet P: No hit.
Me: That's right, no hit.
Sweet P: No hit.
The sad face has subsided by now and only a few tears remain. I can see her thinking and she perks up,
Sweet P: Daddy hit.
Me: Nooooooooo, Daddy doesn't hit.
Sweet P: Mommy hit.
Me: ............................
Awesome. Really glad we had this conversation.
So, how long do we have before day care sends Social Services?
No comments:
Post a Comment