So yesterday I went to the pool. Applied a little sun screen and lotion, and proceeded to listen to the giggles and laughter of small ones in the pool.
Two little girls, once told by mom it was time to go, proceeded to say in their little whiney way "Noooooooooo... five more minutes?"
I remember going to the pool as an ankle biter, and could always sense when it was time to go. Mom would get up from her lawn chair and make her way to the pool's edge. But I outsmarted her everytime with my childhood wit and smarts.
See, you can't hear much when you're under the water. So as soon as she would open her mouth, under the water I would go. Diving, jumping, swimming... even just sitting at the bottom. Didn't matter. I can't hear you. I can't hear you.
THAT's all that mattered.
Until finally I would catch a smidgen of her anger in between splashes.
I got out of the pool.
But I wanted to go up to these kids and tell them my secret.
"No, don't argue and whine with your mom. Just ignore her. Completely. Until she feels tempted to beat you. At that point. go ahead and get out."
And then I wonder if teaching them how to be brats is really what a responsible adult should do.
And then I remembered that I'm an adult brat.
2 comments:
You... a brat? NO!
I KNOW... I know.
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