“No, no, no, no, noooooo!”
“Oh, for god’s sake. Stop screaming.”
Kallan leaps and grabs at my hands, “NO! You are not allowed to just make this decision without consulting me!”
I hold the item in question above my head, “Oh, I so am. Look at me, all blissful and unconcerned with your desires. I will have things my own way and I will completely disregard your opinion. Go me!”
“Mommy, you cannot be blissful about ruining my life! What is wrong with you?”
I lower an arm for her to examine, “Oooooh, look! Goosebumps of joyful ruination!”
“Fine, but you can count me out. I want nothing to do with this.”
“OK by me. You can go to bed instead!”
“You are not allowed to send me to bed!”
“Kallan, want to see something cool?”
“Depends. What would this cool thing be?”
“It would look a lot like me sending you to bed . . . because I can.”
“No, you cannot!”
“Want to see something cool?”
“Not if it’s me going to bed, no. Anyway, you are not allowed to send me to bed.”
“Want to see something cool?”
“Nooooooo!”
“So you acknowledge that I get to decide this without you?”
“I’m telling Daddy on you.”
“Yeah, well . . . your daddy is weak for me.”
“I’m telling Daddy you said he was weak for you.”
“Yeah, do that. All that will do is delay dinner by about a half hour.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“Hmmph. Can I have half a muffin?”
“Nope.”
“Why not? You are just running crazy with bad decisions! Why can’t I have half a muffin?”
“You may not have half a muffin because you have been standing here for the last 15 minutes squawking about how I don’t get to decide what’s for dinner this evening.”
“I hate sausage ravioli.”
“I don’t care. That’s what we’re having for dinner and I need you to deal with it or go to bed.”
“Mommy, as I said before, I doubt your authority to put me to bed.”
“Kallan, want to see something cool?”
“Stop saying that!”
“No, this is a different cool thing.”
“What?”
“This new cool thing is where I refuse to discuss muffins with you any further until you lie on the floor at my feet and beg my forgiveness for doubting my power to send you to bed before dinner.”
“So you’re saying you will discuss muffins with me if I lie on the floor and admit that you are a powerful goddess of bedtime?”
“That is correct.”
“Fine.” Kallan lies on her back at my feet and with clasped hands says, “Sweetest Mommy who would never abuse her power, I admit that you do have the power to send me to bed whenever you like.”
“That’s better.”
She stands, “So can I have half a muffin?”
“Nope.”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“I am so not kidding you.”
“Why can’t I have half a muffin?”
“Because it amuses me to thwart you in small meaningless ways.”
“You can’t be the Goddess of Bedtime and the Goddess of Muffins. That’s not reasonable! It’s god-hoggy.”
“You misunderstood my title. I am G.O.D.”
“God?”
“It’s an acronym. Short for Goddess of Deprivation.”
“Other people’s mothers are not . . . like . . . this.”
“Poor other people.”
“Please can I have half a muffin?”
“No, babe. But there is an actual reason . . . those muffins are huge, and this morning when I told you that you could have half of a muffin, you ate a whole muffin. So you may not have another half, because you already ate two halves.”
“Oh oh oh oh! Wait just a second! I so did not eat a whole muffin this morning! You told me I could have half a muffin and so I ate half a muffin and then Daddy walked through and he asked if he could have the other half of my muffin and I gave it to him so I have only eaten half a muffin today and so can I have half a muffin now?”
“Are you lying to me? Daddy didn’t say anything about eating a muffin this morning.”
“Really, Mom? Daddy is supposed to report his breakfast choices to you?”
“Hmmm.”
“I am not even lying. I swear. You can ask Daddy when he gets home. Please can I have half of a muffin? Please?”
“You better not be lying to me.”
“I am so not lying.”
“Alright.”
“Yay! This way I won’t be hungry for gross ravioli!”
“Wait . . . what?”
“Nothing.”
Kallan eats her muffin half and then starts in with me about dinner again, “I haaaaaaate ravioli!”
“Kallan, want to see something cool?”
“No, wait! I don’t want to go to bed!”
“No, this cool thing is in the back yard. Come see!” I slide open the glass door to the back yard and usher her out, “Right over there.”
She steps barefoot out onto the chilly deck and I slide the door closed, saying, “Stay out there until you turn into a child I am inclined to invite back into the house.”
“Nooooooo!”
I lock the door, and we stare at one another through the glass. Only for an instant, though, because then Kallan’s eyes widen in shock and horror and she slumps heavily against the glass door, her hands thrown above her head. Slowly, her body slides down the door, her cheek dragging dramatically and her fingers clutching at air and glass as she slips to the deck. I watch as she melts and then rolls to a stop, her body spasming a few times before she ceases all movement. Her mouth lolls open and her eyes stare blindly into space.
I slide the door open just a bit, “Death by gunshot?”
“Yes!”
“That was pretty awesome. Well worth an invitation back into the house. Nicely done!”
Maj has appeared from nowhere and is standing behind me, “Yeah, this is normal.”
Mark arrives home, and I walk to greet him, “Hey, babe. Did you eat half of a muffin this morning?”
“No. Why?”
Kallan is standing behind me and when I turn, she is waving frantic hands at her father, who is confused. I stand with my hands on my hips, “Kallan, you lied. This means that you are not allowed to eat any more of those muffins. None.”
Kallan is outraged, “You are not allowed to muffin-ban me!”
I speak in a deep authoritative voice, “G.O.D. has spoken!”
Kallan turns to Mark, “Mommy says she is the Goddess of Deprivation and she threatened to put me to bed early because I disagreed with her and she chose a disgusting dinner and she locked me in the freezing back yard and made me pretend to die and she also made me lie on the floor and apologize to her for nothing at all because I did nothing Daddy and I said I was going to tell on her but she just laughed and said that you are weak for her Daddy do something DO SOMETHING!”
Mark smiles, “I am weak for your mother.”
“Daddy, do something!”
So he did.
And dinner was late.
Duh.
Kallan never listens.
