I’d gotten up the gumption to tidy the kitchen, sweep the floors and even eat some food. These gumptionful actions sent me straight to the couch where I was contemplating a long term stay. I had both phones next to me, my laptop on top of where it’s supposed to go as per its creative name. I was wasting time on Facebook.
Laylee and Magoo walked into the room looking somber.
“Mom,” she began, “I decided it would be better to just tell you the truth.”
“Yeah,” piped in Igor, shaking his head but standing boldly at her right shoulder.
“Just tell me what happened.”
“Well, I was getting out the cheese,” she said, holding up a 2lb babyloaf of Tillamook, “And the salsa fell down.”
“Yeah,” her henchman echoed, trying to look sober but actually looking super-glad he wasn’t to blame. “And broke.” “With glass.”
I looked up at her. I’d just cleaned the kitchen floor for the first time in weeks and now I was recovering, only to be told that the little filth-mongers who are my children have just shattered a bottle of salsa on the floor.
How do you respond to someone who says, “I decided it would be better to tell you the truth”?
Do you freak out and tell them by your actions, “You probably should have lied because I am Ticked OFF!”?
No. You remain calm. You roll off the couch and you clean up the salsa and glass off the floor. You thank them for telling the truth. Maybe you passive-aggressively remind them that you just finished cleaning the floor and ask them to be more careful.
When they spin it like that, you don’t have much choice. I think they know this. It’s all part of the plan.
Ahh, what a good mom you are, even when you don’t feel at your best. I have yet to hear that line out of my almost 5 year old Monkey…. but when it does, I will remember your example and let it soften me like a ripe banana.
I moved recently, and did not have internet for a few weeks, so when I read your blog entry yesterday about not throwing up, I went back to see what the story was… and was surprised and thrilled for you to find out your wonderful (sickening) news! So, here is a belated Congratulations, Daring Young Mom!
This added to the cool Valentine’s Day/St Paddy’s tips most certainly makes you THE.BEST.MOM.EVAH.
I try really hard some days to remember the time my mom was so impressed with how patient I was being with The Biscuit. Most of the time if I imagine she is in the room watching me it works. Sometimes I only think to try that after I’ve freaked out. And I’m not pregnant. (Even when I am I’m just nauseous, I don’t actually toss any cookies, so I really never have an excuse.) You continue to inspire me.
Sounds like you handled it well. Even in your sickened state, having just mopped. (I hate that–spilling right after mopping).
“I decided it would be better to just tell you the truth.” can never possibly start a good conversation, but at least she knew the truth would be better than the alternative.
I have always suspected that little children secretly have a master plan by which to manipulate us.
And…”I’ve decided to just tell the truth” seems like as good a plan as any.
And…it worked. You got up and did the dirty work that they were incapable of doing themselves…and no one got cut…and a loving/cleanly time was had by all!
Go team!!!
They’ve obviously learned that a soft answer turneth away wrath. Namely, the Wrath of Mom
I wish you would stop tape recording conversations at my house and using them for your blog like that. 🙂 I get this one a lot: “Mom, something happened that was a ax-ident…” I really DO prefer it to finding it on my own later and feeling sparks come out of my ears, though.
I remember being about 10 years old when my mom and dad got our family room wallpapered & were so happy with the way it looked. I was turning cartwheels in the empty room (the furniture hadn’t yet been returned), and fell into the wall – putting a nice knee-imprint in the freshly hung wallpaper.
I was sobbing when my parents got home, miserable with what I had done. They didn’t have the heart to punish me – my own guilt was enough. 🙂
I admit, it’s a GOOD PLAN! 😀
My now five year old was told over and over last year that he’d get in less trouble if he told the truth. But if he lied he’d be in huge amounts of trouble. And so now a year or so later the situation you described is so much like our daily life. Something we’ll happen and our kids quickly tell me they did it. And then we talk about it but there is almost never “punishment.” Because we’ve discussed it and I can’t think of anything better because they already told the truth. But yeah its kinda strange.
I’m so impressed at the young age at which your kids have figured out this tactic. You’re in trouble when they are teenagers!!!! 🙂
Oh, that is priceless!! Seriously, how much angrier do I get when mine lie to me about it? Lots! Maybe I should follow your example and start playing it cool when they actually tell me the truth. Might prompt that to happen more often around here 🙂
Laylee is seriously a genius. 🙂
Sneaky, those filth mongers.
I used Laylee’s line all the time.
Once, in seventh grade, I was a nerd. It was November, and we still hadn’t had library period due to a number of ridiculous factors. I loved library period.
One morning, I found out we had to miss library period AGAIN in order to write a Social Studies unit final. Needless to say, I was not impressed. I was on a sugar craze due to a tim hortons donut i got at Jazz Band that morning, and so i might have overreacted.
I kicked the wall, and my foot went through it.
There was a shocked silence for a moment, and then people were crowding around me, “oh, don’t worry, we won’t tell mr. davidson”
“Um….you don’t have to. I think he might notice the 3 foot hole in the wall next to his door,” I said.
So I went to go find Mr. Davidson. Our conversation went something like this,
“Uh, Mr. Davidson? I…broke something”
“Oh yeah? What’d you break?” he asked, not sounding too concerned.
“I broke…the…wall.”
“the WALL!?”
i didn’t get in trouble. it was awesome.
Your story was awesome! I found myself reading it aloud to get the effect of your conversation, and literally laughing out loud. Thanks for sharing!
Amazing, even at that age, how being upfront and honest led to NO reprocussions whatsoever. Smart girl!
I might use the word “sly”.
Love this story. I can see something similar in Laylee’s future.