Friday, August 10, 2007

Pretzel Logic

For a variety of reasons that don’t really matter, I’ve been leaving Ellis at home during the day with Carrie. So she’s not been going to her normal day care provider, who loves her very much. She’s actually called a couple of times to make sure everything is OK with E. It’s sweet. And I have to be honest here, there have been more than a few times when I haven’t taken Ellis to her, simply because it can be difficult to get E. out the door in any reasonable time frame and without her pulling a knife on me.

The day care provider (Becky) says, “Oh don’t worry about that! You can bring her asleep! Just bring her clothes and I’ll feed her breakfast and get her dressed,” which is awfully nice of her. Except that the odds are high that I’d choose the wrong outfit, Ellis would notice that I haven’t chosen EXACTLY what she wanted to wear that day and she’d erupt in a volcano of anger and recrimination.

Ellis overheard that conversation so naturally, she decided yesterday morning that she didn’t need to get dressed. After all, “Becky SAID she would get me dressed.”

“But Ellis, that was only if you were asleep. You are awake and you can choose your outfit and go ahead and get dressed.”

“But Becky said SHE WOULD GET ME DRESSED, DAD!”

“I know, E. But you are only wearing underwear right now. Do you want to go to Becky’s naked?”

“NO!” and she ran from the bathroom where she had barged in while I was drying off from my shower.

Sorry, now you have a mental image of me nekkid and wet. Not pleasant I know, but I wanted to give you some context. I’m naked, trying to cover my salient bits from my four year old to retain some semblance of modesty and she’s yelling at me and being completely unreasonable.

“Ellis, look, let’s just get dressed. Or get a nightgown on and wear that and we’ll take your clothes.”

“I DON’T WANT TO WEAR A NIGHTGOWN! BECKY IS GOING TO GET ME DRESSED!”

“I’m hip, Ellis. Fine. I’m on board, Becky can get you dressed, I’m not attached to helping you put pants on. I don’t care. But if you won’t put something on, you are going to have to go naked. There isn’t really another choice, you see.”

By this time she had melted down into a small blond pool of tears, screaming and pity.

In all seriousness, I love that kid like she was my own (wait… she is mine. Hmm. Whatever. Carry on), but I swear, sometimes I think my head is just going to explode off my shoulders in frustration and agony.

So I finally wrangled her and her be-underweared glory into the car, she got out and ran from the car to Becky’s and burst through the door and said, “Becky! I’m here! You can get me dressed now!”

And I drove off and listened to very loud music on the way into work.

1. Hahahhaha, is there any other way for a 4yo to be, than unreasonable? Or a 12 yo for that mattter…

   Posted by Woman with Kids  on  08/10/07  at  07:15 AM

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