Isn’t it funny how one minute your kids can be really sweet, and the next you want to hang them by their feet from the rotary drier in the garden and give it a good spin?
My eldest – Isaac – is 3, and in that phase of constantly pushing boundaries to see what he can get away with. He ignores us when we ask him to do something, he throws a bit of a strop if he’s forced against his will, and when he gets moody he frowns so much all his forehead fat accumulates above his eyes. I wish I had a photo of it to show you, but whenever it happens I’m normally too busy trying not to snigger.
Every now and then he’ll say something a bit mean, such as “Daddy, I don’t like you any more”, or “I’m not your friend”. When this happens, I tend to just ignore him: either that, or do that thing where you pretend to cry in the hope that he’ll change his mind and give you a cuddle. It never happens. He’s all like “Wail all you want, I ain’t giving in.”
Today, though, he took the threats to a whole new level. I was watching him play with some toys from across the room, when he noticed me looking. He beckoned me over with a tiny finger, and I scurried across. He leaned into my ear; I expected a kiss.
“Don’t look at me ever again.” he whispered.
If my expression could be written as an emoticon, it would look much like this. I think I pooped my pants a little.