Sunday, July 03, 2005
EIGHT MINUS FOUR EQUALS BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS. LOTS OF TEARS.
The eight year old, being eight (and fairly well behaved PLUS she's potty trained), has a pretty active social life. She's over at a friend's house right now.
The four year old, being four (and cranky from having awoken too early due to this morning's big fat thunderstorm show), cried and wept and carried on that no one ever comes over to play with her! Ever!
It's kind of true and has something to do with the fact that the last time she had a little friend over they played barber shop on their hair. And no, I don't supervise my kids closely enough to catch barber shop games in the offing why do you ask?
But it's been a long time and my memory of the incident has faded so I gave in and called one of her friends with an invitation. No hair cutting allowed, I sternly cautioned her. She eagerly agreed (at that moment I had rock-solid bargaining power).
So the "play date" commenced. And yes it ended in tears, as these things often do. Why? The Barbies were put in a time out in the closet. A closet with bi-fold doors. Which should always be manipulated by the handles or there's likely to be a pinched hand. But they weren't and there was.
I consoled myself, after consoling her, that some things are best learned by experience. Each of my kids has fallen down some stairs. Once. Each has fallen out of bed. Once. I hopefully sense a pattern.
The only problem: the eight year old has never pinched her hand in a door. Yet.
The four year old, being four (and cranky from having awoken too early due to this morning's big fat thunderstorm show), cried and wept and carried on that no one ever comes over to play with her! Ever!
It's kind of true and has something to do with the fact that the last time she had a little friend over they played barber shop on their hair. And no, I don't supervise my kids closely enough to catch barber shop games in the offing why do you ask?
But it's been a long time and my memory of the incident has faded so I gave in and called one of her friends with an invitation. No hair cutting allowed, I sternly cautioned her. She eagerly agreed (at that moment I had rock-solid bargaining power).
So the "play date" commenced. And yes it ended in tears, as these things often do. Why? The Barbies were put in a time out in the closet. A closet with bi-fold doors. Which should always be manipulated by the handles or there's likely to be a pinched hand. But they weren't and there was.
I consoled myself, after consoling her, that some things are best learned by experience. Each of my kids has fallen down some stairs. Once. Each has fallen out of bed. Once. I hopefully sense a pattern.
The only problem: the eight year old has never pinched her hand in a door. Yet.
1 Comments:
Yes, the school of hard knocks always seems to be the best teacher for those willing to learn... :-)
By 
, at
11:43 PM
