The Conversation
The following is a true (to the best of my recollection) conversation between me and La Nina.
"Mom, where are we going today?" asked an inquisitive La Nina.
"Gymnastics, the Gym and Kaiser," I answered. I was packing a diaper bag, so I was a little distracted.
"What are we going to do at Kaiser?" she asked.
We were going for round two of flu shots and I didn't want to tell her before we get there. I answer more carefully, "We need see some people. Go get your shoes on, I don't want you to miss gymnastics."
Without missing a beat she volleys back, "What people? Dr. Smith?"
I am gaining speed down a very slippery slope now. "Not Dr. Smith today. Some other people. Now get your shoes, we're going to be late."
"Is Maggie sick? Do we have a check up?" she fires back at me.
She isn't budging to get her shoes, she is staring me down. I can see her wheels turning. I am beginning to think Nana is coaching her in the fine art of interrogation. "No, no one is sick. We don't have a check up. We just have to go there. Now, please get your shoes," My tone is definitely impatient, I am resorting to intimidation.
"But Mom," she says, "What people are we going to see and why? Do you need to get some medicine?" My attempt at intimidation failed.
"We need to see the nurses, honey. It is cold today, I think you should take a sweat shirt to gymnastics. Did you put the dogs out?"
"We aren't going to see those shot nurses, are we?" she asks, her eyes wide and bright.
Oh man. When did this kid get so smart? Why do I have kids smarter than me? Why? Why? Why? I fess up. "Yes, honey, we are. You need to finish up your flu shots so you can stay healthy this winter. Now, get your shoes or we are going to miss gymnastics" It seemed wrong to flat out lie to the kid. How can I expect her to be honest when I flat out lie? And I had to hand it to her, she figured it out.
From that point on, my morning was toast. We missed gymnastics. Tears, hysteria, begging, pleading began from the moment I told the truth. Once we got to the clinic, it was even worse. As I wrestled my resistant 35 lb. daughter into the clinic for her flu shot, Maggie trailed behind us and watched with wide eyes. By the time I finished the mental and physical battle with her sister, the Magster seemed easy. At least she couldn't ask me if she was next.
"Mom, where are we going today?" asked an inquisitive La Nina.
"Gymnastics, the Gym and Kaiser," I answered. I was packing a diaper bag, so I was a little distracted.
"What are we going to do at Kaiser?" she asked.
We were going for round two of flu shots and I didn't want to tell her before we get there. I answer more carefully, "We need see some people. Go get your shoes on, I don't want you to miss gymnastics."
Without missing a beat she volleys back, "What people? Dr. Smith?"
I am gaining speed down a very slippery slope now. "Not Dr. Smith today. Some other people. Now get your shoes, we're going to be late."
"Is Maggie sick? Do we have a check up?" she fires back at me.
She isn't budging to get her shoes, she is staring me down. I can see her wheels turning. I am beginning to think Nana is coaching her in the fine art of interrogation. "No, no one is sick. We don't have a check up. We just have to go there. Now, please get your shoes," My tone is definitely impatient, I am resorting to intimidation.
"But Mom," she says, "What people are we going to see and why? Do you need to get some medicine?" My attempt at intimidation failed.
"We need to see the nurses, honey. It is cold today, I think you should take a sweat shirt to gymnastics. Did you put the dogs out?"
"We aren't going to see those shot nurses, are we?" she asks, her eyes wide and bright.
Oh man. When did this kid get so smart? Why do I have kids smarter than me? Why? Why? Why? I fess up. "Yes, honey, we are. You need to finish up your flu shots so you can stay healthy this winter. Now, get your shoes or we are going to miss gymnastics" It seemed wrong to flat out lie to the kid. How can I expect her to be honest when I flat out lie? And I had to hand it to her, she figured it out.
From that point on, my morning was toast. We missed gymnastics. Tears, hysteria, begging, pleading began from the moment I told the truth. Once we got to the clinic, it was even worse. As I wrestled my resistant 35 lb. daughter into the clinic for her flu shot, Maggie trailed behind us and watched with wide eyes. By the time I finished the mental and physical battle with her sister, the Magster seemed easy. At least she couldn't ask me if she was next.
posted by One Lucky Mom @ 9:17 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home