Prizewinning

So, the Golden Globes wasn’t too long ago, and they just had the Screen Actors Guild Awards.

But if, by chance, there were an award given to the Mommy Who Make Her Children Cry With The Least Possible  Effort, well, I’d be a winner today.

After school, both girls were doing homework when J went and got herself a spoonful of capers. I don’t understand her fascination with capers. Well, yes I do: it’s the salt.  She loves salt. I  generally find her raiding the capers jar and tell her the same thing: “Okay, you can have that spoon, but that’s it. Capers are supposed to be a garnish.”

This time, however, M beat me to the punch with the critique. Hers was a passive-aggressive sniff followed by a more dramatic cough, and, in case her point was not made, an eyeroll-with-nose-holding combination move. So I said, “M, please don’t hold your nose if you don’t like the smell of someone else’s food.” [Shocked disbelief: was that what she was doing? Surely not!]  “I’m serious, honey. It’s not polite. If you really can’t stand the smell, you can move to the other table.”

Instead she ran up the stairs, sobbing.

Impressive performance by a Mama Bent On Wreaking Sorrow and Pain On Her Children, right?

Within 40 minutes, J came trotting up the stairs after of-so-briefly pounding on the keyboard. “Are you finished practicing piano already?” I asked. “Yeah.” “Did you do your songs four times like Mrs. B asked?” Tears, wailing, kicking legs. I calmly noted that Mrs. B wrote the number 4 above her songs for a reason. “You’re clearly too upset now to play well right now, but this is a reminder  for future reference.”

J flung her limbs in multiple directions, wept, and gnashed her teeth.

Brava!

I’d like to thank all the little people. . . .