The Ridiculist 1.11.13

A Tale So Ridiculous, Mother Doesn't Even Know What to Call It

A little background info. Last Friday, Leah was staying home sick and decided to stay home alone for the fifteen minutes it would take me to drive Bo to school. Since she was still in bed, sleeping, the others all had to ride along with me anyway. This meant Bo was left buckle Fletcher's seatbelt in the back seat. We were, as usual, a little rushed, so when I got to the car and Fletcher still wasn't buckled, I was not very patient about having to climb in the back seat and buckle him myself. Apparently, he had hunched over and made it too difficult for Bo to reach the seatbelt. As a consequence for not being cooperative, he was not going to be allowed to watch while Bo played Skylanders or Lego Star Wars on the Wii after school. 

Skip ahead to four o'clock Friday afternoon. Fletcher comes upstairs just sobbing and moaning. I was sitting in the chair, nursing Bristol, so I hadn't heard any of what had gone on downstairs and I hadn't really given his video game hiatus a second thought. I asked him what was wrong. He replied, "My hand is burning." "Oh no, what happened?" I asked, still thinking something bad had actually happened. "Since I can't watch Bo playing video games, my hand is burning," he wept bitterly. I tried to keep a straight face to offer him some empathy about how disappointing it is when a choice we make results in an unpleasant consequence, but it was no small task. The story just kept getting more and more absurd. Pretty soon, he was too sick to eat supper, his neck hurt too much to sleep...It was pathetic, really. The wailing and the gnashing of teeth would have been upsetting if it wasn't so darned comical! Where does he even come up with this stuff?! I can't wait to hear the explanations for things like poor grades, missing curfew, forgetting assignments at school, etc.

Tattletales Have Quite the Tales to Tell

Leah and Bo need to come up with some better material. Good grief. We were driving in the car one day and Bo was crying. I asked him what was wrong and, I kid you not, the problem was that Leah (wait for it...) smiled. Gasp! Shock! Horror! He is not alone in pointing out a sibling's outrageous offenses, however.

Another day, we were on our way to church and Leah kept getting more and more agitated with Bo. (Ugh. Someday I'll read this post and I'll still be able to hear the whiny tone with the way she says, "Bo-uh," when she's mad. Shudder. It's a million times worse than nails on a chalkboard. Trust me.) When I asked her, possibly not very nicely, what the problem was, she replied, "He's breathing too loud!" That's right. Breathing is practically a federal offense, if you're Leah's little brother. Ridiculous!

Two Year Old Loses Phone Privileges

This is not a joke. Anytime I am on the phone, Grier is in the background going, "Me! Me! Me hi!" until I finish my side of the conversation and hand the phone over. Sometimes we even make phone calls to people we know will answer just so she can talk on the phone. Last Sunday morning, however, she was mad at me about something and, in her meanest voice, she said, "Baby Mama," to me. This might not sound so bad, but I suppose, when you're two years old, "Baby," is like the most offensive name you can hurl at someone. So, she went to her room to take a break and when Grandma Loulou called to talk to her, I had to tell Loulou that I was sorry, but Grier did not have phone privileges at the moment. This could get ugly before that girl gets a job, pays for her own phone, and moves out.