We shall have grips like Iron!

Yesterday, The Tyrant managed to get silly putty all over the couch and her shorts. Bright, neon yellow silly putty... The Mother Hen, Bear and I started trying to clean it up. (Thank the intar-web for GoodHouseKeeping!) As we are sitting there scrapping silly putty of shorts and the couch, I looked over at the The Tyrant and asked, "How did this happen?" And she looks at me with tears in her eyes and says "I don't know!" (This link goes to a classic parenting skit, it is a must see!)

I shook my head and continued scrapping. After about 20 minutes of scrapping, The Mother Hen and I both have cramps in our hands but it is finally coming almost all the way off. The Mother Hen said, "I need a break, my hand hurts!" I looked at her, as seriously as I could, "No you can't, you must keep working! We shall have grips like IRON!" We both starting laughing and continued to scrape.

Next, we started dabbing cotton balls of alcohol on the yellow remnants. The Tyrant, who was still showing little remorse for what happened, started playing a video game. I almost lost my temper completely. Instead, I very firmly said "You are going to have to stop playing that game." Bear said, "If you are truly remorseful as you told me you were, you would be trying to help us instead of playing that game." The Tyrant drops her controller and very quietly asks, "Can I help?" Bear, who is working on her shorts, looks up and says "Yes, you can tell us how this happened." The Tyrant says again, "I don't know!" Thoroughly frustrated, Bear leaves the room to pre-treat her shorts so that they can be washed.

After about a half hour of dabbing, the couch is almost clean. The Tyrant has gone back to her video game and The Mother Hen is mad because she has been working and her younger sister is just sitting there. So, in the snarkiest tone possible she looks at The Tyrant and says, "That's okay, when we have grips like iron I am going to use my grip to strangle you!"

The War for Dinner

The Tyrant is a very picky eater. She won't eat potatoes, "crunchy" chicken or just about anything healthy. The new thing is to call someone like her a "choosey-eater" but lets be honest, she is just plain picky.

I decided to try something new this past Saturday. All the parent books and web sites say "Get a choosey-eater to help pick out dinner and they will eat." So, I said to her, "What kind of chicken would you like to eat? And what sides?" She chose BBQ chicken, Mexican Rice and Corn. (I know wierd combo but it was an experiment.)

The entire time that I am cooking she asks "Is it done yet? I am starving." Each time I smile and say "Just a few more minutes, baby." When we finally sit down to eat, she looks at her dish and declares "I am not very hungry." Bear and I just look at each other. KK aka The Mother Hen says, "You were just straving, why don't you give it a try?" The Tyrants takes one bit of the chicken and says "Its too spicy!" The Show, blinks and shouts "You wanted BBQ! We always have this BBQ and you have loved it every time! Geez!" I suddenly get visions in my head of the old Bugs Bunny cartoons.. Of course you realize, this means war!

The Tyrant stands up, "NO, I DIDN'T! WE NEVER HAD THIS! YOU ARE LYING! I HATE YOU!" We all stare at her for a moment, which is a fatal mistake. "YOU GUYS ALWAYS PICK DINNER! YOU NEVER LET ME PICK! THAT IS WHY I HATE IT!" The Mother Hen sighed deeply. She very calmly stood up, took the Tyrant's plate to the sink and rinsed off the chicken. She walks back and sets the plate back down. The Tyrant looks at her plate and decides to nibble at a piece of chicken.

This is where it got crazy. She spit out the chicken and screamed "THANKS A LOT!! NOW ITS ALL WATERY!" Bear couldn't stand it any more and tapped his fork off the side of her plate to get her attention. That is when the tears started... She started crying "She ruined my dinner! Why am I in trouble!!?" Bear looked at her and said "You need to eat your dinner. You said it was too spicy and she cleaned it off. You are lucky because I wouldn't have done that. You are going to sit here until you eat or you are just going ot go hungry." So, for the rest of the dinner we listen to the Tyrant cry.

Forty-five minutes later, her plate has gone cold and Bear has lost all patience with her. "Fine, if you aren't going to eat, you need to clean your plate and put it in the sink." She gets up and does just that. As soon as she sets the plate down, she declares "I was going to eat it and now I can't! Now, I am going to have to be hungry!" Bear, in his best Dad voice, says "THAT IS IT! I have had enough, go to your room!" Sniffling as she goes, "I just wanted to eat my dinner!"

So, to all those lovely parent books and websites, I say CRAM IT!