Over the past couple of days, Rosebud has been applying some heavy duty emotional grind to her mother (and really, all of her beloved and loving family). It feels like being inside a keg of suspicious looking black powder in a room full of nervous, lighter-bearing pyromaniacs. You just never know what’s going to set off the explosion. After a while, you become conditioned to flinch at everything.
So that’s been our last couple of days with the spirited, one-of-a-kind child that is Rosebud. However, I think she’s doing her infamous mind-melding trick again. Like any child this well-versed in tyranny, she senses when she’s pushed her loyal subjects too far.
She then throws them a bone.
Last night, halfway up the stairs to bed (typically a raging minefield, with the black powder and aforementioned nervous pyros), she decided to take matters into her own hands.
Rosebud: You be me, and I’ll be da mama.
To reinforce this, she put her hand on my back to gently encourage me up the stairs.
Rosebud: Okay honey, it’s time for bed.
If you could resist this opportunity, you’re a better woman, mother and human than I will ever be.
Me: But I don’t WAAAAAAANNNNAAAAAA GO TO BED!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
To my surprise, this was precisely the response Rosebud was after. Apparently, she sensed that I might feel better if I could play the role of recalcitrant child.
To be able to whine loudly and have it elicit giggles and encouragement? Oh hells yeah, it was on.
All the way up the stairs, through the toothbrushing process, the final potty break and the pyjama donning, I carried on with my tantrum. At full volume. Until my throat hurt.
Damn, that felt fan-fucking-tabulous. Must do it again some time.
Awesome. Brilliant even.
We’ve done that role reversal thing with hairbrushing. While one of them is calmly brushing MY hair, I flail and scream blue murder. Kind of backfires though, as they think it’s funny!
OK, thanks for this. I am sitting here DYING of laughter.
I love small, precious dictators.
Oh, clever! I think I’ll do that with my son. I’ll scream until my throat hurts that I don’t want to eat my ice cream. Then I’ll cry. At this point it would be awesome if I could vomit at will, but it would be a waste of ice cream, and since he currently doesn’t do that, I don’t want to give him any ideas.
Rosebud is AWESOME!
Must try! Off to round up an offspring!