Friday, September 16, 2011
blue toilet seat
oh...this little girl!
she was mad.
I was sticking to a rule, she knew it, she didn't like it.
she disappeared for a while.
I thought nothing of it.
I should have.
six years later, I should have.
it's several hours later....
I go to use the restroom and am stopped short.
I just stand and stare for a while.
I can. NOT. believe what I'm seeing.
someone has put a deep gash around our entire toilet seat.
our robin egg blue toilet seat.
to my left, on the floor, is the door stop unscrewed from the back of the door
and I swear it's pointy screw end was winking and laughing at me.
the night before I had shaken my head at some other mothers and their stories of 'nap time' disasters.
who let's their kids do that stuff?
vaseline all over...take it out of the room, duh.
insert foot in mouth.
insert my fall after my pride.
I had no idea who'd done it.
So, I did what any mother would, I
yelled called loudly for my children to approach.
Samantha owned up almost immediately.
pretty sure she could see I was in shock and she was worried.
( I was actually holding back laughter because really...that's pretty dang good girl)
I made her screw the stopper back in, clean the toilet seat and then pay me, from her allowance $ that she was saving for a scooter, for a new blue toilet seat.
I so did not want to make her pay me.
I wanted to high five her.
I never ever never wanted her to do something like that again but since it was done I, deep down, wanted to applaud her creativity.
I did not.
she is that kid.
the kid who does things just to get at you, even if she doesn't want to do them.
like, she calls me 'mom'.
I'm not ready for that.
she knows it gets to me.
so, she calls me mom.
unfortunate for her, but she did inherit in her genes that 'game' from somewhere and she is messing with the master.
so, every time she calls me 'mom', I call her 'Sam'.
(she vehemently does not like to be called 'Sam')
and each time I do, I can see her wheels spinning as she realizes she's just lost.
I know this about my Samantha.
this poking at mama.
Reaction = repeat action
I can't react.
Discipline, like paying for the toilet seat, that works.
So, I made her pay.
I did not high five her or laugh.
We have a new toilet seat coming.
She has no money.
but we do have a really really good story.