Archive for January, 2012

Drama

I wouldn’t want to unfairly accuse my youngest of melodramatic tendencies, but here’s what happened Friday:

Mark’s teacher:  “Mark’s been so very good recently I want to move away from having him hold my hand when we walk to the cafeteria for pick-up at the of the school day.  Starting Monday he can go in line with the other children.”

[Have I mentioned WHY Mark has had a special place in line?  Well, in September, I found him outside.  This was odd, because the kids are supposed to wait in the cafeteria for their parents.  Turns out Mark JUST LEFT on his own, and the hapless child behind him in line blithely followed.  Hence Mark, nonchalantly waiting, with this other poor kid beside him, confused and crying.  His mommy was NOT HAPPY.]

Mark:  “WHAT?  I won’t have a special place anymore?”

Mark’s teacher:  “You can be with all the other kids.”

Mark:  “WHAT??  I won’t be special.  I want to be SPECIAL.”

ALL THE WAY HOME:

Mark (wailing):  “But I want to be special!  I want my special spot!”

Me:  “Calm down.  You follow the class in line every other time you go somewhere.”

Mark (big, air-sucking sobs):  “My/life/of happiness/is over/My life/of sadness/has begun!”

 

Zing!

At breakfast…

Mark:  “I need to go wash my face.  My teacher said she wants to see my handsome face.”

I focus on trying not to take this as a parenting critique.  Yes, he usually leaves the house with a dirty face.  He’s told to go wash his face and hands after breakfast but you know how it it–the hands are SO much easier to reach…

Kate:  “Oh really?”

Mark (back from the bathroom):  “Ta-da!”

Kate:  “Go wash it again.  You’re still ugly.”

I make a split-second call that laughing aloud is unhelpful.   Now I’m focusing on not choking to death on yogurt…

Emotional Blackmail

Walking home from school (sans Kate, who has Brownies):

It’s snowing, which is lovely but also chilly.

Me:  “Brr!  I forgot my hat!”

Mark:  “Brr!  I forgot a scarf!  Can I have your scarf?”

Me:  “No.  You have a hood.”

We consider how hard it would have to snow for us to turn into snowmen before reaching home.  “Blizzard,” Mark decides.

Then seemingly out of nowhere…

Mark:  “Do you love me?”

Me:  “Yes.”

Mark:  “If I got hit by a car and DIED, you would be sad?”

Me:  “I would cry buckets of tears, every day for the rest of my  life.”

Mark:  “If you REALLY loved me, you’d give me your scarf.”

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