A while back, we made a quick family trip to WalMart that for some reason involved a shortcut through the toy section (this never, ever
happens on my trips alone with the children. I'm smarter than that.). As we dashed by all the colorful, fun things our kids will never own, Hatchling spied a Diego Submarine and his soul burned for it.
His Daddy (who is the biggest softy ever, which comes in pretty handy for me), promised him that if he could be good for a few weeks, we would go get it. Lo and behold, he was good at the gym. And good at church. And pretty good at home (he's actually almost always good at home. Badness is for other places). So, being the good parents that we are, we took him to McDonald's for lunch after a succesful church outing, and then went to not one but TWO WalMarts to find the Rescue Sub. We bought the last one.
There was much rejoicing in the house of Slush. Hatchling particularly liked the "grabnabber" arm which could pick things up (more Hatchling vocabulary- did you know that the whale used his grabnabbers to get Jonah in the Bible? True story, at least Hatchling-style).
We went to the gym yesterday. On the way in, Hatchling ran through his litany, "Mommy, I promise not to hit, or bite, or scratch, or throw toys, or push people, or have an accident! I'll be a good boy!" If only such fine intentions could be parlayed into action!
When I was done working out, I found yet another incident report. I'm sorry to admit that when they told me I had something to sign, I hoped for an instant that it was on H2, just for a little variety. But alas, Hatchling bit a little girl on the leg, and apparently broke the skin. I guess all that shark practice on the living room carpet is really paying off.
After a talk with Daddy about appropriate punishments, we decided to strike where it hurts. Diego, his sub, and the lovely blue octopus were gathered up. The boys and I took them to the Samaritan House today, where they can go to a little boy or girl who knows how to be nice.
I know, we're the meanest parents ever. In our defense, with Hatchling you have to make an emotional impact to get through his thick little skull. He is just like his mommy. And I can tell you from experience that it sucks to have learn this way. But better now than in juvie, right?
On Tuesday, I'm taking the boys with me to an all girls tea party for my grandmother's birthday. That should prove interesting. L says they are like a rabid dog and a cobra right now, and that's a pretty good summation. The tea house has no idea what it is in for. Unfortunately for me, I know exactly what I'm in for. Bah ha ha...