I've Met My Match

We made it an entire year. AN ENTIRE YEAR. I had twelve whole months of not fighting waves of nausea as Alexis wiggled a flappy tooth in my face.

And then my fun ended.

We're back in the loose tooth zone. There are two flappy little nubs of disgustingness precariously balanced in Alexis' mouth. She knows the power they hold now, so she uses them against me.

"Guess what, momma!" she will cheerfully declare after school.

"What?" I reply because I AM STUPID AND NEVER LEARN.

"My tooth is woosss!" she'll whistle as she shoves her hand in her mouth to wiggle that thing in my face.

I don't know what to do. If I pretend to not care, she wiggles harder. If I puke all over her shoes, she falls over laughing. There is only one winner in this game, and it's not me.

With that year of respite, Alexis gained a year of experience. She learned that teeth are a valuable commodity. She learned to negotiate. She learned the art of blackmail.

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There is this thing that happens in our house where people don't know how to close doors. I don't know why it happens, I just know that I could spend my every waking moment walking room-to-room closing doors that have no business being open. Bathroom doors, playroom doors, closet doors, pantry doors ... all of the doors.

The pantry door in particular is the source of much aggravation for those of us who were not born in a barn. Our pantry is a ridiculously large walk-in closet type of place. It's large enough to house cleaning supplies and vacuums and, of course, food. Lots and lots of food.

It turns out that furry creatures who look like wookies are big fans of food. Those furry creatures are also big fans of open doors because when the pantry door is left open, Penny sees it as an open invitation to help herself to whatever she can reach. I keep moving the food higher and higher up the shelves, but she just figures out new ways of getting to things. Crackers and bread and whatever will fit in her face gets stolen all because there are people in this house who don't know how to close doors.

And that is how Alexis and I found ourselves making an emergency stop at the grocery store. She needed to pack a lunch, which is only possible when there is actual food in the house. Given that Penny had cleaned out a bag of chips, several packs of crackers, and every last crumb of bread during one of her middle-of-the-night pantry raids, food was in short supply.

Alexis and I dashed up and down the aisles of the grocery store, me grabbing essentials and her asking for everything we don't need. Oreos, ice cream, Goldfish crackers -- I nixed every idea that crossed her mind. Over and over I told her no, often asking her if I needed to rewind time and replay that "No" I said just said half a second ago.

Alexis was just throwing darts with her requests. She was trying to throw out as many things as she could, thinking eventually she would hit the bullseye and I would cave. I didn't, though, because I am me. I am stubborn. I am the boss, applesauce.

Dart after dart was thrown and shot down. Over and over again. This thing and that thing and the answer was still "No." But then Alexis set eyes on the mini donuts. She stopped for a second, her face contorting as she pondered if it was worth making the request. She looked up and locked eyes with me.

"Momma, if you don't buy the donuts, I'm going to wiggle my tooth all the way home," she said.

She didn't get the donuts, but I did figure out that I can drive from the grocery store to our house just fine without a rearview mirror.

Comments

[Jenna]

I gagged the whole way through this post.

[hello haha narf]

i love that you didn't cave due to blackmail. it put a huge smile on my face. you are such a good mom.

[Katie in MA]

I'm not saying anything about rearview mirrors, bus drivers, and karma. Because you are my friend and that would be mean. ;-)