Within the past twenty-four hours, my kids have proven to be insulting, manipulative thieves. Let me explain.
I was putting my three-year old to bed last night when he suddenly stopped, crawling out of bed and said, “Hold on momma. I get your money.”
Tired and puzzled, I mumbled “What money?”
“Your money, I got it right here.” Fumbling in his bookshelf, he reached behind a few messily stacked books and proceeded to pull out 4 crumpled dollar bills.
He smiled proudly as he handed me MY OWN stolen currency.
“Uh, buddy where did you get this money?”
“Yo purse. I took it and hid it.”
Well. What an honest criminal. Though I laughed, I had a few questions he would not answer. I never have cash on hand, so what made him go into my purse and take it? We have not really introduced him to much in the ways of currency just yet, so where did he realize that it would be valuable to take this and hide it? Finally, what made him decide that he should give this money back at bedtime so matter-of-factly without pressure of some kind to do so? Kid cracks me UP.
I laughed several times thinking about it the rest of the night, and into today. Those sweeter moments of manipulation make up a tad for the outright impolite ones, like with my older kiddo at the bus stop this morning. He is only 7 and as I went to kiss his head as the bus pulled up, he very assuredly instructed me, “Mom, do me a favor and DON’T kiss me. JUST say goodbye.” Is that starting already?! Really?
Or take tonight. We were doing some math homework and the big guy says to me, “Um Mom, thanks for trying to help but – you were born a long time ago so you probably don’t remember this stuff.”
Yes, son. You are so right. I probably don’t remember adding and subtracting up to 120. Nope. Thankful you put me in my place, as I was really out-of-bounds there with that attempt at simple addition.
As bedtime approached yet again this evening I warned my kiddos that their time with the Xbox was about to wrap up. My youngest hollers to me in the kitchen from the living room, “Mom can we have five more minutes please?”
As they were playing together nicely and he asked so politely, I gave in. “Sure guys, five more minutes and then we go to bed without complaining, got it?”
“Got it!” came his confident reply.
No sooner had his sweet confirmation echoed off the walls did I hear him whisper to his big brother, “Don’t worry YaYa (his big brother’s nickname), I ask her for five minutes again. I say please and she says yes. I got this.” It was pure evil.
Am I a sucker?! I mean, really guys. I CAN hear you from 10 feet away. And just because you asked nicely doesn’t mean I can’t sniff out a little manipulator under that doe-eyed, sticky sweet, smiling exterior.
Thinking ahead to what they may come up with next, I am slightly horrified and simultaneously very excited to see what surprise insults, thefts, and manipulations they have on deck. Also, sorry guys. I will be smooching you and embarrassing you for the foreseeable future. I have earned it tenfold.