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Saturday, August 3, 2013

That... could have gone better...

Posted on Google Plus half an hour ago:
Oh dear...
Abby (10.5, bursting in from outdoors): Is Leanna the boss of me?
Laston and me: No
Abby (running out again): Told you!
Two minutes later...
Lizzy (nearly 6, bursting in): Mom, is Leanna the boss of Abby?
Me: No. I told Abby that.
Lizzy: Well, she might have lied...
Me: No, Leanna is not the boss of Abby.
Lizzy (rushing out): Darn it!
I have to say, I'm kind of dreading finding out what this is all about. And wondering why the Leanna in question (13 next week) hasn't come in herself. Is she just feeling lazy and would rather send Lizzy? Or is she afraid we'll tell her no to her face?
So they come in. And I ask Leanna what that was all about, because she's the only kid I haven't heard from. She says, in true adolescent fashion, "Nothing," which sets off my mama-radar, and I tell her that no, she's not in charge. She says, "Even in an emergency?" and I explain that really, it depends on the emergency; if Abby's not breathing, for instance, she knows how to use her own epi-pen better than Leanna does.

"We were just playing a game!"

Okay, but Abby sounded upset and Lizzy did too, so what kind of game?

Abby pipes up at this point, and Lizzy throws in her two cents in as interrupting a way as possible (as is typical for Lizzy) and after sorting through the babble, it seems that they were playing a game involving a wolf pack migrating, and Leanna is in charge in the game because she's the alpha wolf. Or something.

Oh. Why didn't you say so?

But now Leanna's feelings are hurt because I don't think she's responsible enough to be in charge in an emergency, and she's doing all that lovely adolescent eye-rolling and huffing and door-slamming, and denying that she's doing any such thing, and I'm just trying to get her to shut up and listen long enough for me to apologize for the misunderstanding.

Then she doesn't want an apology, she just wants to finish the game, and she's in full-on defensive teen mode, and Lizzy's interrupting again. And there are teenage italics everywhere. Someone's going off to Toshi Station to get some power converters at any minute.

So now the big kids are (finally) playing their game in their room, And Lizzy's out with me ("She keeps threatening to fart at us, Mom!") watching Charlie Brown on Netflix, and the dishwasher is running and I've almost finished my homework for the day and my elbow is only just now starting to ache. I'm going to put this one down to adolescent angst and parental assumptions.

Things are looking up.