The one where the cake saw it’s arse … bad parenting guide #453

While writing the earlier post I started rummaging through my head thinking about all the rash parenting decisions I made, and when I look back at them now I cringe.  No doubt one of my kids will be on a psychologist’s couch discussing the damage of my parenting choices and directly referring to this blog as evidence.

I am the first to out myself, so let me tell you this rather classic story of where I totally lose myself to the nagging of a 3-year-old.

I bought a chocolate cake and it was sitting on the counter.  We had one of those floating centre table numbers in the middle of our kitchen back then.

Connor is about three.  He sees the cake, and starts going on and on about how he wants some cake.  I explain that he can’t have cake now, but later after dinner he can have a slice.

Connor is like a terrier with a bone, and keeps going on and on about the cake.  I restate my case that he can have it later and he keeps nagging that he wants some cake now. Nothing makes me <further> insane that repeat conversations.  And this one is going on and on like Groundhog Day.

I recall standing and leaning on the counter and looking at him and thinking all sorts of profane thoughts about him, the cake, why I was in this situation, and how it was all Kennith’s fault.  This was 2005, everything was Kennith’s fault.  He did not actually even have to be home (which incidentally he was not much) for it to be his fault.

I am standing there, looking at Connor, looking at the cake and Connor is whining and I am pretty much at the end of where ever my really short tether is.

I look at him.  I look at the cake.

I pick the cake up … I take two steps, I open the kitchen window and I throw cake, container and plate out the window. Right out the window.  I close the window and walk back over to the table, rather nonchalantly.

Connor goes in to immediate shock, and his eyes are huge.  I look at him and go: “Okay the cake is now gone, is there anything you would like to ask for?”

Needless to say, the cake discussion had come to an aprubt end.

I was not proud of myself – but I was at that point where I would have given anything for the constant whining about the frkn cake to stop.

From that moment onwards I was able to use the phrase of “Please, ask for that one more time and I promise you it is going out the window!”

{On a later occassion I did eject a toy out of the car window whilst driving on the N1.  Connor and Georgia were fighting about the toy and they did not want to stop.  I said “Okay pass the toy here…” and then it got left on the N1 somewhere … not a great advert for not littering …}