Thursday, April 03, 2008

The Police State

Last night as I was tucking Ellis in for bed, she whispered to me, “Daddy, when Mommy comes home, I’m telling on you.”

I stopped dead in the middle of pulling up the covers, “Um, Ellis, what are you going to tell on me for?”

“I’m tired now, but you are going to be in trouble when I tell Mommy.”

Couple points of order.

A) She’s got nothing on me.

B) I don’t get “in trouble” from my spouse. She is not my mother. Nor is she my caretaker. We are equal partners and adults. I am NOT afraid of her.

OK, I’m a little afraid of her. She can be scary as all get out when she goes into full blown “lawyer” mode and has the Wrath of the Law on her side. But I’ve seen her nekkid and stuff, so I have that on my side. Also, I can always threaten to tell her birthing stories here.

Ellis is on this huge power trip of late where she likes (loves) to get people in trouble. Mostly her older siblings.

“Jonah touched me with his foot.”

“Lucas won’t play dress up with me.”

“Carrie is looking at me.”

This is what I imagine living with Dick Cheney might be like. You always have to be on your guard or the short, but adorably cute equivalent of stasi will come barreling around the corner and rat you out to Higher Ups.

My favorite way to deal with this is to ask her, “Really, Ellis? He’s touched you with his feet? This. Is. Horrible. What do you want me to do about it? I can cut Jonah’s feet off if you want.”

I’m just afraid that one day, I’ll say that and she’ll hand me a knife.

And, in Lucas’ defense, not many 13-almost-14 year old boys would want to play dress up.

I’d play, but Ellis won’t let me wear the princess tiara.

Jon scribbled this mess on 04/03/08 at 11:03 AM, best we can tell it fits in the category of Regular Post. This many folks had something to say about that, The permanent home of this entry is here: Link

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