I had an experience with my son the other day and thought I would share it with the board.
I decided to take my son out to dinner. My daughter was off with friends and my husband was working. With it only being the two of us, I really didn’t feel like making a mess in the kitchen and then have to clean it up. So, I allowed my 5 year-old son his pick of restaurants in our town. Being the discriminate diner he is, with a hard to please palate, he had to give his choice some thought. After a couple of minutes of cogitation, he chose his favorite eatery: Carl’s Jr.
We arrived and went inside. It was moderately busy with customers. I found the end of the line and waited my turn to order. Once in line, by son decided it was time to make a mad dash to check out the dining area and find a table for us to sit. Then, check out the traction in the tile floors by attempting to break the world records for the Fast Food indoor 10-yard dash and the From the Booth Standing Long Jump. However, it is my preference that he stands beside me, quietly, like the well-behaved child I am striving to raise him to be.
Losing sight of him always makes me very nervous when he leaves my sight, as he is very friendly and will strike up a conversation with just about anyone. I did my Mother’s Bark across the restaurant (luckily I have a voice that carries) and growled at him to “get back over here” and stand close to me. I could feel the eyes of the other patrons on me. Judging me and my ability to parent.
Finally, it was our turn to order. By the time we stepped up to the counter there was quite a line behind us. Yet, there was only one person taking orders. I start to place my order, meanwhile never allowing my son out of my peripheral vision. Mid-order he begins to drift away slowly from me and I quickly snap “Stay here”! The lady behind the counter comments on how cute my miniature Harry Potter look-alike son is. I manage a “huh uh” when my son makes an announcement, to all that can hear, (And that was damn near everyone there) that mortified me. “Mom, you’re mean!
I’m stunned and embarrassed. Not so much by WHAT he said, but because he chose to say it in front of strangers. I could feel the blood rushing to my face and my mind stammered as how to respond to him. Especially, now that there was a captive audience to my reaction. I like to think of myself as a loving and concerned parent, and that stinging declaration was cramping my style, big time!
My son gazed up at me with those big brown eyes that are made huge by the glasses he needs to wear. His look seemed to say “Zinged ya good, huh, lady?! Try and get out of THIS one gracefully”! The imaginary parenting scorecard read: Kid 1, Mom 0. How do I get out of this one unscathed?
Then it occurs to me! A tactic that I use with my 10-year-old daughter with relatively good success a number of times. It may work for me now.
So, what did I do?
I simply agreed with him.
I looked at my little boy staring up at me and responded: “Yes! You are right! I am mean! Horrible mean! Frighteningly mean! In fact, I am the MEANEST Mom in the world”!I am SO MEAN that Moms from all over the world clamber at the chance to take MEAN lessons from me! I am THE MEAN guru. I am forever cultivating my MEAN skills as to spread my brand of Motherly MEANESS to every corner of the world. I am THE BIG MEANIE!”
The lady behind the counter was desperately trying to control her impulse to burst out laughing.
I turned to the bemused people in line and said:
“Take a good look! You have seen me in the flesh. Unlike Elvis sightings at Burger King, you have witnesses, and yes, I am alive and breathing. Tell your friends and neighbors you saw me at Carl’s Jr. Just get my title correct: I am The MEANEST Mom in the World.
My shocked son was speechless.
That being said, I quietly paid for my order, got our drinks, and sat down at a table to await our food. A Famous star for me. Chicken Stars Kids meal for my son. He devoured his meal with relish as I admonished him to “chew thoroughly before you swallow” with mild success.
We drove back home to the Mean Lair just in time for Sponge Bob Square Pants on television. I’m not so mean as to not let him watch his favorite show. After that, it was shower time, then off to bed.
Finally, the house is quiet. After collecting my thoughts, and the toys scattered on the floor, I gratefully collapsed into bed. After all, the worlds MEANEST Mom needs her beauty sleep.
Andee
