Three Tiny Tyrants
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November 2017
Over the years we have been together, the tyrants have added to their toolboxes a myriad of methods to drive me to madness. The day I do break and end up headed to the psych ward, I am 100% sure that it will happen during mealtime...
Setting: The kitchen at dinner time. What was cooking? Chicken nuggets, of course. That 10-minutes-in-the-oven golden fried goodness that is one of the few meals all three tyrants are willing to eat. The meal we eat 3-4 times per week. The meal I NEVER ate prior to my incarceration. Oh, how times have changed. Tiny enters the kitchen just as I am shoveling chicken nuggets onto three plastic, segmented plates. He surveys the scene and, upon making visual contact with the nuggets, pointedly looks at me and asks me what's for dinner. I point out the obvious steaming hot chicken nuggets with one oven mitted hand and a look of pure disgust appears upon Tiny's face. He throws back his head with the drama of over-exaggeration and begins to whine, loudly. Big and Little come running at the sound of their leader's battle cry and also ask the obvious question. Again, I point to the chicken nuggets clearly sitting in plates on the counter. More drama ensues times three. I make mention of the fact that when I asked them what they wanted to eat for dinner, all three refused to take a moment of their attention away from their precious toys to answer me. I also mention that I point blank told them all that I was making chicken nuggets and received no negative responses ten minutes ago when that decision was rendered solely by myself because no one else could be bothered to listen to the words emanating from my mouth. Tiny makes a slight concession and walks over to the sad nuggets and proceeds to poke each one with his pointy finger. He melts into tears as he makes his final proclamation. "They're TOO FLOPPY!!!" and with that he picks one up to show me how it bends slightly when held perfectly vertical. I agree to place them back in the oven to crisp them up. "But I'm HUNGRY NOW!" Tiny moans, clutching his stomach as though he hasn't eaten in days. Little dissolves into tears as he also grabs his imaginarily emaciated stomach. The minute my back is turned to the oven, the three make a quick beeline for the pantry of snacks. I whip around to catch them in the act. "NO SNACKS!" I say, eyes narrowed, "These will be ready in five minutes." Tears, moans and whines fill the air, decibels increasing quickly. For the next five minutes, I intermittently cover my ears to save my hearing and blockade the pantry with my body to prevent the horde from snacking. Finally, blessedly, the timer dings on the toaster oven and I pull out the now brown, crisp chicken nuggets. As I place them on the counter for a second time, Tiny furrows his eyebrows at me and frowns with the drama of a sad clown. "They're BURNED!" he wails. Big, occasionally on my side when desperate for food, says that he will eat them. I flash Big a huge, grateful smile and I begin to dish out the nuggets. Little is caught between also wanting to eat and going against the will of his leader's dictatorship. He quietly climbs on his chair and begins banging his fork on the table. A good sign- he will probably eat too. The tide is shifting against Tiny. Tiny, entrenched in his desire to hate chicken nuggets tonight, staunchly refuses to give in. I place nuggets at each tyrants place at the table. Little and Big each take bites of their nuggets and then begin screaming bloody murder as bits of half chewed chicken nugget drip down their chins. "THEY'RE TOO HOT!!!" They scream at me, accusingly, clearly not making the connection between hot oven and hot food. Their wide eyes stare at me as though I betrayed them by feeding them hot food. I calmly tell them to blow on their nuggets before eating them. They demand that I come blow on them for them. Tiny, furious at their betrayal, screams "I HATE CHICKEN NUGGETS. I'M NOT EATING THEM." Through gritted teeth, I point out that he ate these exact chicken nuggets not two days ago and loved them. After blowing on Big and Little's nuggets for a sufficient amount of time, I sit down to dish out my meal of slightly overcooked chicken nuggets. Tiny creeps up to the table and proceeds to manhandle every single nugget on his plate and on the pan before declaring them all inedible. He points to a nugget on his plate that had the unfortunate fate of being misshapen and pouts, "AND SOMEONE TOOK A BITE OUT OF THAT ONE. I'm not eating ANYTHING tonight!" he decrees with flair. I tell him to suit himself and continue to eat my now germ covered, manhandled chicken nuggets. Tiny stares at me, eyes narrow, flopping himself on the floor, wailing with hunger, waiting for me to crack. For five, long, minutes. Then, slowly, silently, he creeps back up to the table and sadly pokes his nuggets in between sniffles. I carefully avoid making eye contact. He slowly picks one up and bites it. He chews thoughtfully. He takes another bite. Then he flashes me his biggest, most maniacal smile. "Mmmm! Yum! I love chicken nuggets!" and proceeds to eat them all up, licking his fingers for finesse. Though chicken nuggets may ultimately be my demise, that day is not today. So, instead of banging my head on the table, I smile back at him, my brain fuzzy and my eyes slightly crazy. But he doesn't notice. Or does he?
1 Comment
Nonni
11/25/2017 08:08:03 am
Payback IS annoying, but take comfort knowing that they will get theirs eventually (trust me I know...)
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AuthorAnna Christine is a working mother of three boys. She is a teacher, writer, learner, and a fierce advocate for inclusion. Writing is her catharsis for the tough days of parenting. Her writing has appeared on ScaryMommy: Archives
January 2019
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