Crumpled Home

(reading to the kids in the car)

Dad: … Dun dun daaaaaaaaahhhhhhh… That’s the end of the chapter guys.

LR: Daddy! Read more!

RJ: Yeah, keep going!

Dad: We’re almost there. It’s time to stop.

LR: If you stop now, I will not be pleased. There will be consequences, Daddy… Consequences.

RJ: Yeah! You better keep reading! I’m reaching my limit…

LR: (dramatically) CONSEQUENCES!

RJ: … and you wont like me when I reach my limit. I’m just like Mom!

Dad: True. Normally, Mom is just lovely to be around…

Mom: (dark, foreboding look)

Dad: … But it’s never safe to be around Mom when she’s reached her limit.

Mom: (darker, more threatening look)

Dad: I guess I’m pushing the limit, right now.

LR: CONSEQUENCES!!!!!

RJ: I’m getting to my limit, Daddy! I’m warning you!

LR: !!!  CONSEQUENCES !!!!!

RJ: !!! LIMITS !!!

Dad: Okay… Okay… A few more pages then.

Do not push his limits, or there will be consequences!

(while playing in the backyard)

RJ: I hear someone, Dad! It’s the neighbour behind the fence! They’re in the backyard.

RJ: (climbs up fence) I can see him and… whoah.

Dad: What?

RJ: (shouting back across yard) He’s the grumpiest man in the whole world! I’ve never seen anyone look so grumpy!

Dad: Well maybe he’s just had a really long day.

RJ: (still shouting) I… I don’t think so… He’s… HE’S LOOKING RIGHT AT ME!

RJ: Dad! I think he’s been like that his whole life! One day, when he was a a kid, he was really grumpy, and then… the wind changed

(a few weeks ago)

So RJ just had a massive meltdown, a full-on tantrum. We had the whole deal: screaming, tears, rage and finally just incredibly sad and dejected… The reason this time?

We refused to buy him a book.

Yes, we are cruel, harsh parents and yes, we are aware he’ll always have trouble fitting in with the other kids at school, but we refuse to have silly, made-up stories taking up so much of our childrens’ time. If we let them, they’d spend hours just sitting there on the couch doing absolutely nothing except filling their heads with empty nonsense. Half of the books appear to be filled with advertising anyway, to get you to buy the following books in the series. Mr. Dickens, we are sooooo onto you.

Continue reading

(after a wailing tantrum that seemingly came from nowhere)

RJ: BUT I JUST WANT TO KNOW ABOUT EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD! NOW!!!

WHY WON’T YOU HELP ME?!!!

Yesterday afternoon, while building a new raised planter box for an extension to the veggie patch, RJ and LR came out to help. Putting on my “Responsible Father” hat, I decided against letting them carve up the planks of wood with the  saw. Determined to help do something, they chose to attack the rose bushes with the hedge trimmers.

This wasn’t a problem — the roses are scheduled to be deleted sometime soon when Mum reformats the gardens. To give the kids some purpose, I suggested we try to make perfume or rosewater out of the rose blooms. “Great,” they said, and asked how to make it.

I managed to describe the processes while trying to sink the posts for the garden bed without destroying the incredibly convoluted system of pipes and tubes that make up our irrigation system. LR picked rosewater and immediately ran off and got to work. RJ decided to make perfume, and then asked where he could get alcohol.

(out in our fairly small back yard, neighbours just a few metres away in all directions)

RJ: Can you get me some alcohol?

Dad: I need to finish this bit of the project, RJ. I can’t help you right now.

RJ: (getting upset) But I need it now. I need to make perfume.

Dad: I understand. You really want to get started, but I can’t help yet. You have to wait.

(this repeats a few times as RJ gets more and more upset)

RJ: (angry and screaming) I NEED ALCOHOL. YOU NEED TO GIVE ME ALCOHOL NOW!

Dad: No! No alcohol for you until later!

RJ: (at the top of his lungs) I WONT WAIT! GIVE ME SOME ALCOHOL! I NEED ALCOHOL.

(this repeats a few more times and eventually he breaks down into tears)

RJ: (sobbing, yet still somehow very loud) Please daddy, please get me some alcohol. I only need a little bit.

I’m just waiting for a knock on the door from family services… They’ll probably be taking my “Responsible Father” hat with them.