Friday, July 29, 2011
The cost of a simulnap
When I got to the gym playroom today after working out a boy I don't know was sobbing in the arms of the caregiver.
My kids were not crying. My kids were laughing like little sociopaths.
The teacher explained "They threw toys at him. At his head."
I grabbed them by their chubby little arms and sat them down with their backs against the door.
"We do NOT THROW TOYS. YOU HURT HIM. YOU SAY YOU'RE SORRY. DON'T GET UP! SAY YOU'RE SORRY AGAIN! AND NOW TO YOUR TEACHER. AND TO ME!"
They apologized insincerely and then continued to giggle and goof around as I signed them out. When we got to the sidewalk I let them have it. They wouldn't stop giggling and screwing around. They climbed up on top of the landscaping boulders near the entrance and shrieked defiantly. Hearing Dr. Phil's voice in my head ("Keep raising the price of poker!") I kept taking things away until Charlie sobered up and told me he was really, really sorry.
"When we get home, you're going to your room."
Giggle, giggle, giggle.
"And you've lost your TV privilege for the rest of the day."
Slightly less giggling.
"Should I take away our trip to the pool, too?"
NO MAMA I'M SORRY MAMA I WANT TO GO TO DA POOL PLEASE MAMA I'M SO SORRY!!!!!!!
And then, of course, no one would get in his carseat when I asked. Everything was SO freaking hilarious. Wes hit me as I tried to buckle him in.
On the way home I made an unplanned trip to Starbucks--for me--so that I could make a big point out of "Boys who hurt other children in the gym playroom do not get treats." There were lots of "Mama, I'm really, really sorry!" in the drive-thru lane! I considered ordering some cake pops then eating them in front of them, but thought that would be a little too cruel and went with tea instead. I had just worked out, after all.
And now they're all sound asleep. And I ate all the M&Ms out of the trail mix.