13 May 2006
no flies on us
There's something about being a mom that turns me, sometimes, into a cheap imitation of a cracker barrel philosopher.
Kids bicker. It's what they do. It's actually training for Life. They learn negotiation skills, establish boundaries, figure out how to suss out the competition, and practice that old saw of the Child Rearing Advice Industry, using their words. It also drives me totally insane.
So I interfere more than I should. I attempt to establish Rules of Engagement. And I offer the wisdom of the ages.
Me: "Why did you hit Four?"
Six: "Four wouldn't let me play with his Batman!!!"
Me: "Did you ask nicely?"
Six (sulkily): "No, I don't like him."
Me (propping myself up on the metaphorical cracker barrel): "Well, you know, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."
Very sulky pause.
Me: "Well?"
Six: "I don't like flies."
Kids bicker. It's what they do. It's actually training for Life. They learn negotiation skills, establish boundaries, figure out how to suss out the competition, and practice that old saw of the Child Rearing Advice Industry, using their words. It also drives me totally insane.
So I interfere more than I should. I attempt to establish Rules of Engagement. And I offer the wisdom of the ages.
Me: "Why did you hit Four?"
Six: "Four wouldn't let me play with his Batman!!!"
Me: "Did you ask nicely?"
Six (sulkily): "No, I don't like him."
Me (propping myself up on the metaphorical cracker barrel): "Well, you know, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."
Very sulky pause.
Me: "Well?"
Six: "I don't like flies."
