Who’s in charge?

Asking both of my oldest children to do something is much like demanding the sun to shine: if it happens it’s a pure coincidence and has absolutely nothing to do with me. The boy has special selective deafness that will do him well in later life when he gets married. Fifi has a more direct approach, and it often becomes a war of both volume and attrition.

Today has been a good example of the different approaches taken by each of them. When I asked the boy to not run off and get lost at IWM Duxford about FIVE HUNDRED times, he completely ignored me on every single occasion. Even threatening him with the removal of his Journey 2 temporary tattoos failed to elicit the correct response (obedience).

Fifi on the other hand dealt with my fairly reasonable request to walk from the bathroom, to her bedroom and put her jim-jams on while I gave Danger a bath, by theatrically throwing herself on to the floor, shouting “Ow!” loudly and sobbing almost endlessly whilst writhing about. 15 minutes later, the screaming and shouting was still ongoing, so I had a conversation with Fifi. I was told in no uncertain terms that Fifi was still in charge and I was a naughty daddy for not doing what I was told because she wanted things done in a certain way. I must admit, I had harboured the suspicion for a while that I wasn’t entirely in charge of things. Stupidly I thought it was wifey who was pulling the strings but it turns out I was wrong and it was in fact our 3 year old running the show.

Silly me.