I am not a servant

I should tell you about the aftermath of last night’s concert. 

The kids got to bed late last night, and I had to wake The Princess for school this morning.  She woke up hard to use the family term, and was a real Crabby Patty all morning leading to the following exchange:

Me:  what do you want for breakfast

O:  Cereal

Me:  What kind?

O:  I can’t decide.  You pick one.

Now, a seasoned parent can see this trap coming a mile away.  Whichever cereal I pick will be the wrong one so I tell her she has to decide because I’m not falling for this one.  This was not well received.

Me:  O, what kind of cereal do you want?


We only have two kinds of cereal.  I don’t really know what her problem was.  It’s not like I had set out a buffet of 20 kinds of cereal for her to choose from.

Meanwhile the C-man has finished his breakfast, and put his dishes in the sink.  He is bending over backwards to be the Happy Fun Child.  This is so pitifully transparent that I have to laugh, even though I do appreciate the gesture.  Ahh, there’s no better way to start the day than with your sister getting in trouble.

Finally I hear this pronouncement from the living room:

O:  I’ll just have a waffle.

Me:  What?  (This is the cue in our house for “you forgot to say please”)


Me:  Well, I’m not making it if that’s how you are going to ask for it.

Stomp!  Stomp!  Stomp!  The Princess comes storming into the kitchen, throws open the freezer door and makes a big show of looking for the waffles (what did you think I was going to get out the waffle iron and make them?  Silly you), and then stomps over to the toaster oven.

Moments later she had a warm nutritious (plain) waffle and then Stomp!  Stomp!  Stomp!  She went off to her room to sulk.

She isn’t even anywhere near being a teenager yet (she’s 10).  I am quaking in my boots at the mere thought of her at 16.

By the way, don’t get used to these twice a day postings.  It won’t last.


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