One of the my key reasons for wanting to be a parent was the most obvious one really – the utterly sadistic pleasure of completely breaking a small person’s will.
Today Armaan staged his first civil disobedience movement. How? By sitting bolt upright in bed and refusing to sleep. And by staring me down. This was particularly rich given that his face was full of zinc cream dots (recovering from chicken pox) and he could easily have given Bozo the clown a run for his money.
I stood at the other end of the room, folding laundry. Uttering in the practiced smooth and placatory tone preferred by true sadists, “Sleep, sweetheart” and such niceties. My true inner voice was throwing the kind of profanities at the boy that would have kept him in therapy for life – as opposed to the mandatory 5 years he will need after living with me.
After a heroic hour of Gandhian salt-march-like gritty resolve with the occasional rubbing of eyes and smothered yawns, he ..well..toppled.
Toppled like a bowling pin, no less. Eyes shut, mouth wide open and will power worn to a nub.
A disappointing end to a great stand off.
Ma – 1 Toddler – 0 should have been a whole lot sweeter!