If I was not actually listening to this conversation?
I would not believe it.
Here’s Mark, talking to Kallan . . .
“What do you want for lunch?”
Kallan hangs from the kitchen counter and kicks her legs back into the room, “Something good.”
Mark peers into the refrigerator. “How about turkey?”
“I hate turkey.”
“Ok, how about leftover pizza?”
“That’s too old. It will make me barf.”
“Hmmm . . . we have those teriyaki chicken bowls we bought the other day.”
“Ick. Those have vegetables in them. No.”
“Soup?”
“Soup is disgusting and you are only supposed to eat soup when you are sick.”
“Pasta salad?”
“Nope,” she continues to kick her legs out and into the room as though she is some sort of crazed ballerina.
“Ham sandwiches?”
“Nope. Mom made those for lunch this week. I’m tired of ham.”
I stare at the two of them incredulously, but I say nothing.
Mark starts going through the cupboards, “Let’s see. We could make sausage.”
“Too spicy.”
“Or spaghetti.”
“Daddy, that’s a dinner meal.”
“Well, babe . . . what do you want to eat?”
She twirls and spins in the center of the room, “Something good.”
Are you fucking kidding me?
Maj yells from the other room, “Why is Daddy letting Kallan decide what’s for lunch when all she ever wants to eat is quesadillas?”
Snort!
Mark ignores Maj, “Hey, Kallan! What about the orange chicken left over from last night?”
Kallan goes all whiny, “Ewwww. Daddy! I want something good! Nothing you are saying sounds good.”
Mark stares at Kallan, thinking. What could he do to make Kallan happy?
I stare at the two of them. And then?
I lose it a little bit.
I speak to Mark, “Babe, why are you having this conversation with Kallan? Why are you giving her this power? You are not going to win. She is not going to agree with anything you suggest, but eventually? You’re going to have to choose something. At which point, she will throw a fit and scream that she hates what you have chosen. Yay! Way fun.”
Kallan is furious, “You do not even know that is going to happen. I am having a perfectly nice conversation with Daddy, and we do not need you to be talking.”
“Yeah, well . . . I am your mother, babe. I get to butt in where I want.”
“That’s not fair! If I interrupt your conversation? You get all angry. But if you interrupt my conversation? You get to be all innocent mom.”
OK, and she does that air quote thing around the words “innocent mom,” which pisses me off.
And then she stares at me with her arms angrily folded and says, “You just think you get to do whatever you want. But you don’t. Daddy and I were talking.”
I walk over to her and stare down into her face, “Are you kidding me?”
She pushes her chest and her folded arms up against me, “No, I am not kidding you. This is none of your business.”
And so then I send her up to her room for 15 minutes, because I am pissed and because she will not fucking back down. I yell after her, “And Daddy and I will decide what’s for lunch while you’re gone! So there!”
I am all mature.
Sigh.
Kallan stomps up the stairs, and as she stomps, she yells (in the most amazingly sassy voice I have ever heard) . . .
“Look at me! I am Mom. I am all innocent.”
Stomp . . . stomp.
“I am all innocent, and all I want to do is help figure out what’s for lunch.”
Stomp . . . stomp.
“I am innocent Mommy and I never do anything wrong. I am all innocent.”
Stomp . . . stomp . . . silence . . .
And then she bellows down the stairs, “EXCEPT I AM NOT ALL INNOCENT. I AM A TROUBLEMAKING MOM AND I AM A BIG FAT LIAR!”
Mark looks at me mildly, “Well, that went well.”
“Oh, shut up.”
He gazes into the refrigerator, “So do you want the pizza?”
“Babe, that pizza needs to be thrown out. It’s old.”
“Ok, how about the turkey?”
“I was going to make the turkey for dinner tonight.”
“Alright, what about soup?”
“Soup makes me feel like I am sick. Soup is sick people food.”
“What about those teriyaki bowls, then?”
“The vegetables are all weird and squishy in those.”
Mark turns to look through the cupboards again, looking for a way to make me happy.
What?
Shut up.
If there’s anyone out there with children who say they haven’t had some variation of this exchange?
They are big, fat liars.
Though Kallan’s sass?
Whew.
I might have just taken myself right out for some lunch alone.
Kallan has big sass.
She gets it from her father.
Pretty sure.
Sigh.
Definitely from her father.
Yep. Definitely.
Mark needs to get that shit under control.
Let me go tell him.
Snort!
This is how I am EVERY TIME Cort asks me what I want for whatever meal. I am all undeceive, but I know I want something tasty. But I do appreciate people deciding for me. Then I don’t have to think. I just want to eat. Not think.
And Kallan’s sass pants? Oh. My. Lord.
Kallan’s sass pants?
Hee hee.
I am sure soon in my life, I will hear those words. I will be the child– being all sassy back to the kids!!I have three year olds, they roll their eyes at me, and I laugh. I think I am encouraging wicked funny behavior. I love the blog, been a secret reader! This one got me. I was so like that w/my mom!! It will bite me in the ass one day soon!
Hey, you!
I do tend to encourage wicked funny behavior.
Hee hee!
But, yes . . . my ass?
All fucking bitten.
I am sooo glad it isn’t just my daughter that can get sassy like that! For me it’s like “misery does like company” and I am not the only Mom who faces it!!
I am liking the go out for dinner comment from CDG!! I must remember that for the next time there is a dinner discussion like this at my house. I’ll go out and eat and let every one else eats leftovers!!
M
Hee hee!
I do like my strong independent daughters.
I do like their intelligent sassy mouths.
And then sometimes?
I wish they would just be compliant.
Yeah . . . not so much.
You are not all innocent? What is Kallan even implying?
Sheesh.
And air quotes are REALLY fucking annoying.
I have a co-worker who does it and I think I am not alone in wanting to bash her in the head every time.
Yes!
Kallan has been air-quoting at me lately, and every time?
I want to bash her in the head.
I won’t.
But I want to.
snort. awesome twist. awesome indeed.
even though it pisses you off, at least she’s using air quotes correctly. there’s nothing worse than people who copiously use air quotes and have no idea why.
Snort!
Yes, Kallan is all sass- appropriate.
She places the air quotes correctly.
Every time.
Sigh.
Oh dear. Kallan in this post reminds me so much of myself as a kid.
My mom threatened for years to smack my mouth (in a house where corporal punishment was the exception, not the rule). I was 15 when she finally got her opportunity. It hurt, but I was so stunned that she actually did it, I didn’t cry. Just stood there in shock.
I absolutely love that we can see where Kallan gets her decisiveness, though.
Hee hee!
I am usually decisive.
Very.
But not about a lunch I don’t even want to eat.
We do not use corporal punishment.
Not ever.
But I do sometimes want to bonk Kallan on the head.
Sometimes.
Yeah, it’s not the cooking I mind so much as the deciding ever flipping day! Is it any wonder I get lunch out as often as possible. Yesterday’s Susan was very good.
Remember, Wednesday, 1 page.
What’s funny?
Is that I am usually very decisive.
But I am never hungry for lunch, and so nothing ever sounds appealing.
No one should ask me about lunch.
Or breakfast.
I like dinner.
And what’s Wednesday, again?
Snort!
That girl is sass-tastic.
(double snort)
I can never, never, never let Ethan see this blog or meet your daughter, because she will become his role model & he will be channeling Kallan forever more.
Le sigh.
As much as I adore the notion of your son channeling Kallan?
You are wise.
She is exhausting.
Fabulous, but exhausting.
Snort!
I remember this with my daughter. Her sass was the silent kind. She preferred living IN the house.
I still get to do this several times a week with Hubby dear, minus the sass. Usually.
Silent sass?
I don’t get much of that.
The sass at our house is generally of the top-volume sort.
All the way up to #11.
Hee hee!
Once upon a time? I was the pickiest eater alive…I never got to decide lunch or dinner…or breakfast. Now? I’m not so picky, but I hate having to choose what to eat.
Kallan is not that picky an eater, she is just convinced that if she refuses to eat everything?
Someone will buy her a cheeseburger and fries from McDonalds.
That doesn’t generally happen.
But Kallan is ever hopeful.
So I always said that I would never be that parent that made more than one meal for dinner. Guess what? I’m so freaking that parent. With Buddy’s insane food allergies and picky eating behavior, the only way to get everyone to eat is to make multiple meals. And Buddy? Has way too much control for a 6 year old. One day, I heard the husband and Buddy have a conversation about where to go out to eat, and because Bueddy didn’t want to go out? The husband thought we should stay home. FUCK NO! My 6 year old will not make me cook a meal if everyone else wants to go out.
Oh, and I was always so full of sass (still am. SHH!). My mom often called me a “smart ass”. I finally told her one day that it was better I was a smart ass than a stupid ass. She was all stunned. HA! Score one for me.
Well, you have special circumstances.
We do not.
And when I am in charge of meals?
I choose something (or I give the girls a choice between two somethings), and that’s the end of that.
If they don’t eat it, they can just wait for the next meal.
I am all unreasonable and harsh that way.
Mark is softer.
Annoying.
And stupid ass?
Hee hee!
My Aunt Mackie had a simply kitchen strategy. Make them wait long enough, and they’ll eat anything. ‘Nuff said.
Ooooh, you are commenting again!
And with a new fabulous blog name.
HOGSATEMYSISTER . . .
Love that.
I will have to check that out.
Fuller figured brides ride sperm whales?
Snort!
It’s a good thing that you are all “sane” and “rational” and not at all “whacko” or anything like that.
Also, I “love” you.
Sigh.
You?
As always?
My “favorite.”
It’s interesting to see how alike you are. She is definitely your daughter. Lol.
And someday she will have a similar conversation with her daughter.
By the way, what was for lunch? The orange chicken sounded good :)
We ended up eating the teriyaki bowls.
Ick.
And Kallan is definitely my daughter.
Definitely.