We’ve always followed the mantra of avoiding needless confrontation with M’laddo. It’s all too easy to make a flashpoint out of something minor and end up having a major battle of wills over something like which pair of socks to wear (hint: they have to have spider-man on them). Instead we tend to employ the dark arts of distraction and vague promises that he’ll forget about in ten minutes.
After yesterday morning, I have the unsettling feeling we wont be able to do this for very much longer. I think he’s on to us.
We were having the usual Wednesday morning hoo-ha, the little man was up and happy as I helped him get dressed. Then he noticed I was in my work clothes and begun gently sobbing. The horror of a full day at home with Mummy struck home and it struck home hard. Rather than telling him to cheer up, I opted for the other approach. I carefully told him Daddy needed to go to work so we could afford our house. Otherwise we’d have to live in a cardboard box in the middle of the street. I could see this wasn’t having the desired effect so I ad libbed and told him there wouldn’t be room for bun-bun the bunny in our cardboard box because it would be quite small. He just looked at me and said, “Silly Daddy, me get bun-bun his own box.”
Thwarted. I need to up my game.