My fine young son is not doing well in the mornings lately.
My consumption is getting me up at dawn’s first crack and I am enjoying a little quiet time from about 4-5.30 a.m. Sipping on my twig tea with ginger.
I have eliminated all dairy, all animal products, all caffeine, I am living on twigs and lentils. Any minute now I will stop smoking. To be fair I have cut back my daily intake by over half. I am on 8 cigarettes a day, it’s amazing how gasping for breath like it’s your last will motivate one to giving up bad habits.
Anyway, onto my young son.
He just wakes up pissed off. I have tried talking to him about it over and over, but every morning is the same, this terminal bad mood, though he no longer eats his clothes, that has to be a good sign right?
Nothing goes right for him, he claims he prepares his clean socks the night before and then thieves break in and steal them. While I will admit, there isn’t much to steal here, and most theives would probably take pity and have a whip round before they left, taking his gnarly socks would be just silly, and pointless, it’s not like they’d fit, unless they are midget thieves, vertically challenged robbers.
This morning his breakfast of choice was a seaweed sandwich. I do not judge him. I like piccalili in my oxtail soup, I am partial to a Seabrook crisp sandwich, I eat marmite on my finger out of the jar, he was destined to eat weird, it’s genetic.
He was eating his ( lovingly prepared) sandwich and the great sock debacle began again.
I said, ‘Do not fear oh precious one, your socks are here, tightly wound into a little ball, just like every nerve in your body.’
Then I said ‘catch’, or maybe I didn’t. maybe I threw before I said catch. Either way, without warning, the socks landed on the sandwich.
By this time the Man was up as was Jim, four people in the room.
Three of us thought it was quite funny. One of us did not. Shall I start a quiz?
Who did not find the humour in the situation?
He had been up about 18 minutes by this point and already had boiled over.
Right! I’m not eating my sandwich, in fact I am not wearing my socks, I don’t need my socks because I’m not going to school, not today, not tomorrow, not ever, I am never wearing socks and never going to school again……’
I need more than twigs for this.
Am rethinking my whole non-violent strategy, am wondering at the wisdom of a bit of a smacked bottom, am rethinking the whole parenting thing……………