Last night was not the greatest in terms of planning. I defrosted a roll of phyllo dough for dinner (thinking it was a pork tenderloin), so we decided to go out to eat. You know, to celebrate writing a check to the government,
So, on the way to dinner we take a good look at our children who are beginning to look like they have been raised by wolves, and decide to get a quick haircut first (does it EVER work out that way, though?)
We sit, waiting 30 minutes for a 2 minute haircut (#3 all over, please), while Peacemaker and Helper Munchkin begin to ACT like they've been raised by wolves. The Big Guy and I look at each other and realize that we are quickly loosing control.
We finally get them the hell out of there and sit down to dinner. The two little guys go to the bathroom and the Big Guy gives #1 Son a dollar to play a game in the lobby while we wait for dinner. He explains that the little kids won't get one because they were bad...but don't tell them that.
Then the kids return and Big Guy loses his mind and announces (like a proclamation, Here Ye, Here Ye...) "Your brother just went to play a video game with $1 because he was good. You will not get one because you were not good." I shoot him a look that says "It's your funeral." and the crying and fit throwing begins in earnest at our booth. (Big Guy actually thought he was going to watch the Penguin playoff game after that little diddy!)
So, this is a rundown of the conversation that ensued. Just read the following with the sound of Peacemaker crying "I want a dollar! It's not fair, it's not fair!" on a loop in the background.
Helper Munchkin: "Why can't we have a dollar?!"
Exhausted Mom: "It's called consequences."
Peacemaker (stops his chant for a moment): "What's con-see-ences?"
Mom: "It means when you do something bad, something bad happens to you."
Helper Munchkin: "Where did you read THAT?!"
Mom (staring at Big Guy and replying in a very dry tone): "In the Parenting Handbook."
Peacemaker and Helper Munch (wailing): "Give us a dollar, toooooooo!"
Mom: "No, I'm sorry. Not today."
Dad to Peacemaker (ever helpful): "You have a booger sticking out of your nose. Get it, it's driving me crazy!" (I look at him, incredulous)
Now, here is the piece de resistance...Peacemaker very deliberately reaches in for the booger, displays it on the tip of his finger, then wipes in on his pant leg with gusto. Like, "Oh, yeah, you won't give me a buck? Well, I'm going to wipe a booger on my pants, you meanies!"
Mom: "Well, that sure showed me!"