Spawnling is nothing if not honest.
Unfortunately, at three-and-a-half, he has yet to discover the wonderful world of word filtering. It's a useful tool in all sorts of potentially sticky situations, such as the ones that just occurred at my place of residence this morning. Oh, my.
My good friend Handcuffs - a mom with three
Spawn, my dear little son, did what he now does best in these situations: screamed as loud as he could and let the waterworks flow. You know, I used to loathe when he would hit back, but I almost hate this whole sobbing uncontrollably at the injustice of it all phase even more. Doesn't he see that I'm trying to drink my coffee? There should be a no-wailing rule when mommy has her feet up on the ottoman.
I picked my boy up and asked him what happened. In between gasps for air and sobs, he told me the whole sordid tale: 'Gasp! Riley... he... sob! ... he hit... gasp! snort!.... m-m-meeeeee! ... sob!'
It would have been nice if it had ended there. But no, of course not. He had to keep going about it. '... And I was just ... gasp! ... sitting there and he... sob! ... h-he whacked me just like that, and... sob! ... and he's SUCH A BIG DUMBO!"
Yikes. Nice one, kid. Here's a little trick I've learned over the years: If you're the victim in an altercation and there's some kind of parental intervention, just stay put. Do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred-dollars. Don't start throwing bad names around; it'll just complicate the situation. Now both of you have to apologize. Do you know how hard it is to make two three-year-olds say sorry to each other without another hit or yell happening in the process? Even seasoned mothers struggle with this.
A little later, when things calmed down again, Spawnling had started drawing a picture. And, like every other picture he draws as of late, it looks like a Mr. Potato Head on hallucinogens: a large (this time yellow) circular body with two circles of different sizes for eyes and four creepy little sticks protruding from its spud-like frame for limbs.
Handcuffs, forgetting who she was talking to, said 'Hey, Spawnling, do you know who that looks like? Sponge-Bob!'
'No. It doesn't.' replied the artistic diva, cooly.
Trying to explain herself, Handcuffs went on: 'See? It has a big yellow body, and little sticks for arms and legs. Just like Sponge-Bob does!'
'No. I don't think so.' I believe he may have rolled his eyes at that point.
'Okay, then,' shrugged Handcuffs, trying to stifle a giggle over Spawn's stubborn refusal to see her point.
He looked over at her and said, so matter-of-factly, 'Ummm, do you know that I don't like you?' And he casually spun around and walked off to do something else.
Just so you know, it is very, very challenging to make your child apologize to a person who is practically falling out of her seat laughing, while you yourself are in stitches, and tears are running down your cheeks.
He may be ballsy, but I really do love that kid.