I know that you know how to operate the stereo and entertainment area of the den, and although this makes me proud, it also annoys the bejeezus out of me. Your skills at turning the TV on using the remote AND the button on the TV both thrill (when Daddy is watching rugby) and annoy me (when I am watching Ugly Betty). I don’t really mind when you play with the stereo or adjust the volume to a brain blowing level of decibels, but now, things are getting a little out of hand.
Yesterday, while I writhed and groaned on the couch from being sick (damn coffee-bean-sized baby), we watched an ENORMOUS amount of Treehouse. This was for your own benefit, as I was clearly NOT in the mood to play or cart you around all day. Well, obviously that got old, even for you. I watched you go over to the end table and pick up a DVD. Totally amusing me up until this point, you brought it to the DVD player, turned it on, but couldn’t figure out how to get the DVD inside (thank Vishnu). Annoyed with the predicament, you brought me the DVD, pointing and yelling at me to get my sick ass off the couch and do some real parenting. Or just help you put the DVD in so that you could continue amusing yourself without my help.
I looked at the DVD you selected – it was a Value Drug Mart promotional DVD that Daddy had received in the mail. Not your most riveting of videos. I knew you would not enjoy it, so I tried to put a different DVD in, more along the lines of Disney or Backyardigans. But were you happy? No. You were thoroughly annoyed that I would even consider pulling such a switch on you. You yelled and pointed your little waggy finger at me some more. As much as I love a good finger waggin’, I gave in. I put the Value Drug Mart yawn fest, and we watched. You were thrilled. For about 1 minute, then you turned the TV off, pointed that finger and yelled at me again.
I would just like to clear this up: I tried to warn you, I tried to get you to watch something else, but YOU were insistent. I then listened to your demands and followed through. It is not my fault that you didn’t like the results. I do not, therefore, appreciate being finger-wagged and told off. Maman knows what’s best for you, even when you think I’m being totally stupid. One day, you will have a kid who wags his finger and yells at you, and I will smile. But not today, my friend. Not today.