OMG!! Are You Kidding Me?
Not too long ago the Butterfly was having a “Just call me Terror” day. The morning began with a sudden inability to hear her mother, everything and I mean everything she was told or asked to do she just did not do. I would call her and would not even get the slightest acknowledgement, I stood in front of the television she stood up and walked around me, I switched it off she clicked her tongue at me and went to the computer. I’d yell at her she’d tell me to be quiet. I do find it exceptionally hard not to laugh when these things occur and that particular day the series and frequency of these events was rather amusing at first. Things did however start to irritate when she refused to get dressed, sit correctly at the breakfast table, throwing a fit when she was refused a sweet or throw her toothbrush out the bathroom window. So I eventually gave her a smack, which stung both of us because she was still not dressed. She was so mad at me for daring to smack her she told me to go to my room.
I made the beds, she unmade them. I put away the laundry she unpacked the draws. I tidied her book shelf, she took everything off it. I yelled at her she yelled back. I smacked her she followed me around the house screaming her head off refusing to go to her room to calm down. By the time she had thrown her lunch onto the back yard I was at the end of my rope and was now no longer amused at all. I was beginning to see red so she was sent to sit on her moon chair in the passage until I was calm enough to sit down and have a rational conversation with her. I took the opportunity to redo everything she had undone, effectively cleaning up and calming down at the same time. Half an hour later I was sitting on the floor in the passage having a heart to heart with a Butterfly whose eyes were filled with crocodile tears about the correct way to behave.
Fat lot of good that did! Half an hour of good behaviour later we were right back where we had started. She just went right back to ignoring my existence and telling me to be quiet when I spoke/yelled at her. It was in the middle of one of these tirades that the Mauritian arrived home, suddenly the little sh*t turns into a perfect angel all smiles and welcomes making me out to be the wicked step mother. I wanted to strangle her!
With peace and obedience finally restored we sat down to supper and once the Terror was safely in the bath I gave the Mauritian a rundown of our horrid day. He sat quietly listening to me rage on and on about the Terror’s horrendous behaviour all the time an amused half smile tagging at his lips. When I was finished ranting and blowing off steam he took a sip of his coffee, stood up came over to me and hugged me. Then he looked at me and said: “The best part is we're going to go through it all again with the next one.”
I made the beds, she unmade them. I put away the laundry she unpacked the draws. I tidied her book shelf, she took everything off it. I yelled at her she yelled back. I smacked her she followed me around the house screaming her head off refusing to go to her room to calm down. By the time she had thrown her lunch onto the back yard I was at the end of my rope and was now no longer amused at all. I was beginning to see red so she was sent to sit on her moon chair in the passage until I was calm enough to sit down and have a rational conversation with her. I took the opportunity to redo everything she had undone, effectively cleaning up and calming down at the same time. Half an hour later I was sitting on the floor in the passage having a heart to heart with a Butterfly whose eyes were filled with crocodile tears about the correct way to behave.
Fat lot of good that did! Half an hour of good behaviour later we were right back where we had started. She just went right back to ignoring my existence and telling me to be quiet when I spoke/yelled at her. It was in the middle of one of these tirades that the Mauritian arrived home, suddenly the little sh*t turns into a perfect angel all smiles and welcomes making me out to be the wicked step mother. I wanted to strangle her!
With peace and obedience finally restored we sat down to supper and once the Terror was safely in the bath I gave the Mauritian a rundown of our horrid day. He sat quietly listening to me rage on and on about the Terror’s horrendous behaviour all the time an amused half smile tagging at his lips. When I was finished ranting and blowing off steam he took a sip of his coffee, stood up came over to me and hugged me. Then he looked at me and said: “The best part is we're going to go through it all again with the next one.”
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