Oh these children. Little mirrors.
My five year old and I walked to the grocery store yesterday - just a few blocks from the house. We were both having pretty awful days, and I thought the change of scenery might do us some good.
As required by our previously adjudicated contract, I had to buy him a gumball if he was well-behaved during our shopping trip. I considered arguing the point that, since we were only at the store for 10 minutes, I technically didn't owe him a gumball but...what the heck. I really didn't have the energy; he's a vicious negotiator.
He's also a severely negative boy who can find something to complain about ANYWHERE. Trust me on this, I just took the kid to Disney world. So of course the first problem is that after inserting the quarter into the filthy machine, he is unable to turn the knob and must watch, disgusted with himself, as I do it for him. Then - o calamity of calamities! - a yellow gumball pops out. I remind him that a yellow gumball is better than no gumball, and he seems okay with that.
I've been thinking a lot lately about my inability to recover from disappointment. Some misfortune visits my emotional doorstep before 9:00am, and my day is shot. Recuperation is a pipe dream. So that's where my mind was when I glanced down just in time to see the yellow gumball, still intact, fall out of my son's mouth onto the parking lot and roll away.
I watch his face register the stages of grief - the denial, followed by the anger... and as he nears the bargaining stage he turns his teared up eyes to me. Realizing the need to nip this in the bud (I briefly considered the five-second-rule, then thought better of it) I say "I'm sorry Sam, we can't pick it up, and I don't have any more quarters."
He blinks, the tears fall, and he whispers "But I was just so happy."
You said a mouthful there, baby boy.
My five year old and I walked to the grocery store yesterday - just a few blocks from the house. We were both having pretty awful days, and I thought the change of scenery might do us some good.
As required by our previously adjudicated contract, I had to buy him a gumball if he was well-behaved during our shopping trip. I considered arguing the point that, since we were only at the store for 10 minutes, I technically didn't owe him a gumball but...what the heck. I really didn't have the energy; he's a vicious negotiator.
He's also a severely negative boy who can find something to complain about ANYWHERE. Trust me on this, I just took the kid to Disney world. So of course the first problem is that after inserting the quarter into the filthy machine, he is unable to turn the knob and must watch, disgusted with himself, as I do it for him. Then - o calamity of calamities! - a yellow gumball pops out. I remind him that a yellow gumball is better than no gumball, and he seems okay with that.
I've been thinking a lot lately about my inability to recover from disappointment. Some misfortune visits my emotional doorstep before 9:00am, and my day is shot. Recuperation is a pipe dream. So that's where my mind was when I glanced down just in time to see the yellow gumball, still intact, fall out of my son's mouth onto the parking lot and roll away.
I watch his face register the stages of grief - the denial, followed by the anger... and as he nears the bargaining stage he turns his teared up eyes to me. Realizing the need to nip this in the bud (I briefly considered the five-second-rule, then thought better of it) I say "I'm sorry Sam, we can't pick it up, and I don't have any more quarters."
He blinks, the tears fall, and he whispers "But I was just so happy."
You said a mouthful there, baby boy.
aww, Sam. I feel your pain buddy, and yours too, Jeanine. A day at a time, some good, some bad.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful and made me cry.
ReplyDelete