Mommy and Daddy have to create a united front. Divided we are easily conquered.
Jay and I try really hard not to change a decree that has already been made by the other parent. Even if, for example, I think three green beans instead of nine would be sufficient in order to get the all-important treat, I go with what he said. Because he said it first. Oh, and that time I had already agreed that Chica could wear the tutu for her day of running errands with Daddy. Though there was lots of mumbling involved initially, he went with it. Because I said it first. You have to at least make them think you are on the same page. Otherwise they’ll take you down. Fast.
Well lately we’ve had a few situations where it’s easy to see that the decision that was handed down was based solely on parental laziness. Like, “No, we’re not having omelets today because there’s not enough time.” What we actually meant was, “No, I’m not making one because cereal is just so much easier.” Or, “No, we’re not watching TV right now.” The real truth is, “I don’t feel like getting up from my warm spot in the kitchen to go all the way downstairs, turn it on for you, and wait for you to make up your mind about what to watch. So, no. No TV.”
Nine times out of ten, we still agree. Truthfully, neither one of us wants to make an omelet on a school morning or stand there while she thumbs through 17 episodes of My Little Pony on Netflix before finding just the right one. But then there’s that tenth time.
Take this morning, for example. Chica was all dressed except for shoes. Just like every other day for the last two weeks, she asked to wear her boots that Nana gave her for Christmas. “I can’t find my booooooots,” came her whiny voice from the bedroom.
Jay quickly shot back from the kitchen table, “Wear your tennis shoes.”
And so here I am in that weird place once again. Daddy has already said one thing, and that should be the final answer. But I know the rest of that sentence really is, “Wear your tennis shoes because I don’t know where your boots are, and I’m not planning on getting up from reading the newspaper in order to help you find them.” I knew the boots were in the living room next to the sofa. So part of me wants to tell her because I know the impending meltdown that’s about to occur over second-rate footwear. But the other part of me knows that what Daddy says goes, so I hold off.
Ok, so actually I just whisper to him that I know where they are, and he is able to edit his own decree. Win-win. But while she fetched her boots from downstairs, I started telling Jay that we need a code word for when this kind of thing happens again. Specifically when he makes a parenting decision and I want to say the opposite but I’m not sure if he’s really ok with that. He didn’t really get exactly what I was talking about, but he decided on a codeword, nonetheless. Bagel. He was really just humoring me I think, trying to get back to reading the newspaper.
Fast forward a few hours. Dinner has ended, and we are standing at the kitchen window admiring the massive amounts of snow suddenly falling. Chica asks if we can pull the blinds all the way up to get a better view. Jay says, “No, they’re fine where they are.” I read, “No…..I don’t really want to get up, so no.” I don’t mind pulling them up, so I guess you know what’s coming….
Except for he looks at me with the strangest look. He’s forgotten what his own codeword means. Classic.
So we get a good laugh, and I pull the blinds all the way up, and he’s fine with that. Just another successful day for Team Mom&Dad.
HOMEMADE SESAME BAGEL © WordRidden | Flickr Creative Commons