I am always that mom.
The one who says "No" to everything.
Recently, Mr. Husband has been working an odd schedule, leaving Alexis and I with the occasional Sunday to ourselves. That would be fantastic, except for the part where I shoot down every suggestion for every activity that the kid can muster. As Alexis reported with sad-puppy eyes this weekend, she doesn't even remember what the inside of a Build-A-Bear store looks like.
It's such a sad first world existence she leads.
This weekend I thought I would continue to break her heart by suggesting we head downtown for the Arts Festival. She loves downtown. She doesn't love the Arts Festival. While she has had fun every time I've drug her to it, she has it in her head that it's "boring." Which, um, there's funnel cake at the Arts Festival. There is no such thing as "boring" when funnel cake is in attendance.
Alexis disagrees with that assessment. In fact, sit down for a moment. I need to tell you something shocking. Are you ready?
My kid doesn't like funnel cake.
I KNOW! I KNOW! I KNOW! In so many ways, she is the PERFECT kid for me. She just has that one major flaw. I try to forgive her for it.
As we walked around the Arts Festival, Alexis moped and whined and complained. "This. Is. Boring," she snapped more than once. Any normal kid could have been cajoled out of that funk with a promise of funnel cake. Alas, Alexis is not normal.
However, as we made our way towards Point Park and passed by booth after booth filled with horrible-yet-fantastic food, Alexis set eyes on a little something that made her little heart pitter patter. "Momma, can I get popcorn?" she asked.
For once I got to be the mom who says, "Yes!" It was kettle corn, but who cares about semantics?
Alexis settled into a spot on the lawn to enjoy her giant bag of kettle corn and listen to some live music.
You have to love the grumpy eye-averting action. It's Alexis' superpower to quickly look away just as I'm about to click the shutter button. These days, it comes out mostly when she's mad at me.
The Grump continued to grump as she ate those first few kernels. I'm not afraid of no 5-year old, even when she's wearing her Grumpy Pants, so I asked if she would be willing to share a bit of that giant bag of kettle corn that was nearly as big as she is.
I'm guessing that would be a, "No."
That would be a, "HELL NO." And a, "I'm counting every single kernel and if even one is missing, I will cut you."
She's cute when she's being a snot, though.
I continued to torment the poor child, mostly because I really did want some of the kettle corn.
And then it happened.
You know how sometimes you look at your child and all you see is yourself? How it's like looking in a mirror and seeing a reflection of the person you are/were/want to be?
That's EXACTLY the face I make when people try to touch my funnel cakes.
I couldn't be prouder.