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Kids. Who'd have 'em?
Transcript of my walk home from picking up the Cherub (age 4 1/2) from pre-school. To be honest she's getting too big for her pushchair (buggy) but omg does it make life easier on occasion. Cut to spare you all! *g*
Cherub: I WANT TO GO TO TOWN!
Me: Not today dear. Here, have your biscuit.
Cherub: I don't want that biscuit.
Me: Well that's what I brought. You can have a different one when we get home.
Cherub: I DON'T WANT TO GO HOME! I WANT TO GO TO TOWN! WAAAAH!
Me: Tough, we're going home.
Cherub: I DON'T WANT TO GO HOME! I WANT TO GO TO TOWN! WAAAAH!
She keeps this up for a while, until she spies the playground further along the road.
Cherub: I WANT TO GO TO THE PLAYGROUND!
Me: It's a nice day.... yeah, go on.
Cherub: AND THEN GO TO TOWN!
Me: No.
Cherub: THEN I DON'T WANT TO GO!
Me: Are you sure?
Cherub: I WANT THE PLAYGROUND THEN TOWN!
Me: We're not going to town.
Cherub: WAAAH! THEN I DON'T WANT THE PLAYGROUND! *sob* I WANT TO GO TO TOWN!
As she keeps shouting she [grumpily] starts trailing her feet on the pavement.
Me: Please don't put your feet on the ground, you're going to get hurt.
Cherub: LEAVE ME ALONE!
Me: Very well.
Cherub: I WANT TO GO TOWN! I WANT TO GO TOWN! I WANT TO GO TOWN! WAAAH!
Me: Darling, do you honestly think this strategy is going to work?
Cherub: I WANT TO GO TOWN!
Me: Whatever. (I'm such a heartless mother...)
As we were getting closer to home, she decided to do that worming herself out of her harness that children get very good at, so - to stop her from actually falling out - I lifted her out.
Cherub: I WANT A CARRY!
She is skinny, but heavy. Also carrying a child + pushing a pushchair is pretty knackering.
Me: No. You can walk, or you can get back in the pushchair.
Cherub: I WANT A CARRY!
Me: No.
Cherub: I WANT A CARRY!
I start walking off.
Cherub: WAAAH! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! I WANT A CARRY!
This is the point where it got kinda hard to keep a straight face, cause she was alternating between sitting down on the ground and jumping up and down in anger.
Me: You've been naughty and shouty. Say sorry.
Cherub: I WANT A CARRY!
Me: What do you say?
Cherub: I WANT A CARRY!
This continued for a while, and then we had a time-out, wherein she had a sip of her drink and decided that she did want her biscuit after all. Cue TRAGEDY when she dropped it.
Cherub: MY BISCUIT! *heartbreak*
So I picked her up.
Me: Are you sorry for being shouty?
Cherub: *mumble mumble yes*
Me: What was that?
Cherub: I'm sorry.
Me: Are we friends then?
Cherub: *sad nod*
So she did get a carry in the end. Here endeth the day's dose of parenting. (I might have been mentally composing this post in my head as things unfolded. *g*)
To give this post some purpose other than my daughter's tantrum, a fabulous KitKat advert from 2001 that made me terribly nostalgic. Do you remember when Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen was all over TV (and Daleks weren't)? (From this post, which has the best ring tone *ever*!)
Cherub: I WANT TO GO TO TOWN!
Me: Not today dear. Here, have your biscuit.
Cherub: I don't want that biscuit.
Me: Well that's what I brought. You can have a different one when we get home.
Cherub: I DON'T WANT TO GO HOME! I WANT TO GO TO TOWN! WAAAAH!
Me: Tough, we're going home.
Cherub: I DON'T WANT TO GO HOME! I WANT TO GO TO TOWN! WAAAAH!
She keeps this up for a while, until she spies the playground further along the road.
Cherub: I WANT TO GO TO THE PLAYGROUND!
Me: It's a nice day.... yeah, go on.
Cherub: AND THEN GO TO TOWN!
Me: No.
Cherub: THEN I DON'T WANT TO GO!
Me: Are you sure?
Cherub: I WANT THE PLAYGROUND THEN TOWN!
Me: We're not going to town.
Cherub: WAAAH! THEN I DON'T WANT THE PLAYGROUND! *sob* I WANT TO GO TO TOWN!
As she keeps shouting she [grumpily] starts trailing her feet on the pavement.
Me: Please don't put your feet on the ground, you're going to get hurt.
Cherub: LEAVE ME ALONE!
Me: Very well.
Cherub: I WANT TO GO TOWN! I WANT TO GO TOWN! I WANT TO GO TOWN! WAAAH!
Me: Darling, do you honestly think this strategy is going to work?
Cherub: I WANT TO GO TOWN!
Me: Whatever. (I'm such a heartless mother...)
As we were getting closer to home, she decided to do that worming herself out of her harness that children get very good at, so - to stop her from actually falling out - I lifted her out.
Cherub: I WANT A CARRY!
She is skinny, but heavy. Also carrying a child + pushing a pushchair is pretty knackering.
Me: No. You can walk, or you can get back in the pushchair.
Cherub: I WANT A CARRY!
Me: No.
Cherub: I WANT A CARRY!
I start walking off.
Cherub: WAAAH! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! I WANT A CARRY!
This is the point where it got kinda hard to keep a straight face, cause she was alternating between sitting down on the ground and jumping up and down in anger.
Me: You've been naughty and shouty. Say sorry.
Cherub: I WANT A CARRY!
Me: What do you say?
Cherub: I WANT A CARRY!
This continued for a while, and then we had a time-out, wherein she had a sip of her drink and decided that she did want her biscuit after all. Cue TRAGEDY when she dropped it.
Cherub: MY BISCUIT! *heartbreak*
So I picked her up.
Me: Are you sorry for being shouty?
Cherub: *mumble mumble yes*
Me: What was that?
Cherub: I'm sorry.
Me: Are we friends then?
Cherub: *sad nod*
So she did get a carry in the end. Here endeth the day's dose of parenting. (I might have been mentally composing this post in my head as things unfolded. *g*)
To give this post some purpose other than my daughter's tantrum, a fabulous KitKat advert from 2001 that made me terribly nostalgic. Do you remember when Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen was all over TV (and Daleks weren't)? (From this post, which has the best ring tone *ever*!)
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You know, I never call her 'Cherub' at home - it's usually 'darling' or 'princess' or something similar. (Or just her name, obviously.) She gets upset with nasty names, poor thing. "I'm a GIRL, not a monkey!"
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