The Pipsqueak

"Sometimes their rationalization seems unreasonable to adults, or doesn't make proper sense."

(a comment from my friend, Rachel R)

Truer words never spoken.

My son is completely irrational and I cannot figure him out.

He insists that he wants me to throw out a book that Hannah gave him about a dog and a robot.

"Why in the world do you NOT want this book, Seth?" I asked. "You like both robots AND dogs. In fact, you build robots with your blocks."

"I will build a robot," he replied. "But I WILL NOT read a book about a ROBOT AND A DOG!!"

?????????????

That was this evening. Let me tell you about my morning. At the mall. With my sister.

My pastor used a word in our Wednesday night Bible study that very much suited my son. It even suited my daughter. The word was pipsqueak......a.k.a. TWERP.

I thought I would join my sister this morning - at her request - on a shopping excursion. Just to get out of the house. And because malls have become an unknown entity of late. My sister makes this request about twice a year, and each time she does she slaps herself, shakes her head, puts a big "L" sign on her forehead because she again remembers TOO LATE why she only asks us to go with her TWICE A YEAR. She then marks it on her calendar as a reminder NOT to ask again (but then obviously senile dementia sets in because she loses her calendar).

This trip to the mall reminded me that for the 754th time, (some people are slow learners I guess), I need to work at my consistency of parenting. Or change my methods. Or take a long vacation. I personally favour the last suggestion.

The kids drove me, and my sister, batty at the mall, particularly my son. When I found myself pulling Seth along unsuccessfully, I discovered it was because he decided to "walk short" (in his words) by trying to walk by squatting. He nearly dislocated my shoulder.

Whenever correcting him, he ALWAYS has a wise crack. This is a method he has used to try to get out of trouble - unfortunately, it must work too much - that has me thoroughly annoyed. I do NOT find it funny at all, and neither did my sister. On one occasion after he used his wit, we both told him we did not find him funny at all and to stop. Totally. He thought about this and then informed us that,

"I sure wish I was with my dad. HE at least would appreciate my jokes."

On another occasion (of hiding around the clothes, imagining he was being chased by his sister), his auntie had told him she had had ENOUGH.

"I've had enough, Seth. I'm serious. ENOUGH. Quit."

He paused for a short time. Then said,

" "e" "e" "n" "f". That's how you spell enough, right?"

(He's always excelled at spelling, what can I say?.......)

And the grand finale...

I had to take him into the bathroom at the mall. This was a big bathroom, and with the air hand dryers and noisy flush toilets, was the noisiest one I've ever been in. He went into a stall and shut the door. I did not think he would lock it because I was standing outside (he's had problems unlocking the door in the past, so I don't like him to lock it).

He did.

I yelled at him to unlock it (remember: it was noisy - I had to yell).

"SETH. UNLOCK THE DOOR!"

"I CAN'T!" he said.

"YES YOU CAN. UNLOCK THE DOOR!" I repeated.

"NO, I CAN'T!" he repeated.

I repeated myself. He repeated himself. Life in the bathroom went on as only life in a bathroom can. Nobody could hear us (I think) - it was that noisy. Then he said,

"GET YOUR KEY OUT. UNLOCK IT YOURSELF!"

"I DON'T HAVE A KEY," I said. "THIS IS A DOOR I DO....NOT.....HAVE...... A..... KEY..... FOR!"

"THEN CALL DAD! HE HAS A KEY. HE CAN UNLOCK IT!"

I actually laughed. Right in the middle of this frustrating situation, I regained my sense of humour.

Then a miracle happened. The toilet flushed. On it's own (it was one of those kind of toilets). It scared my son.

He opened the door. Miracle.

Thank God for automatic-flush toilets. I think we'll get one in our house.