"I'm sorry, Mom." She said absentmindedly, as she withdrew her heel from my throat.
"Actually, I'm Dad," I reminded her, "and you need to be more careful."
"OK Dad." she said, entirely without conviction, as she scrambled over my legs and up into the cushy chair. Once there, upon her high perch, the girl again dove off, landing, this time, with her other foot placed just under my chin.
The boy, having just bounced off the side of the sofa, was sitting, dazed, upon the floor. The kids were running in high gear, and I was laid out on the floor, a fleshy speed bump, trying to just catch my breath. I needed a gin-and-tonic, but that would have to wait.
I needed to come up with something quick to drain the energy reserves.
The boy, fortunately, switched on his hungry mode, so a handful of cheese and mandarin oranges satiated his needs.
The girl, however, was in need of a work out, and the best way to do that was to get her to run up and down the stairs. It was then that I got the idea.
Mom ran interference for a moment, as I ran to my secret coin stash. From the bucket, I drew out 8 shiny colored tokens, and carried them downstairs, where I hid them, one by one, in semi-secret spots around the rooms. Then, I returned upstairs.
The girl took to the game with relish after she learned there was a secret prize (Elmo stickers) for successful token retrieval.
Each token required a separate trip down the stairs, around the rooms and back up the stairs. Not-subtle clues were given. Each token was triumphantly presented to me, and the growing stack in my hand was recounted each time. The count was subtracted from 8 to determine how many were left, until all had been found.
By the 8th token, she was tired and hungry. She no longer had the drive to stomp on any one's neck. She was, however, ready to eat.
Victory stickers were presented and dinner was had. I wallowed for a bit in my own victory, having, for once, outsmarted a precocious and rambunctious three-and-a-half-year-old girl.
Oh and, sometime between the 6th and 7th token, I finally got that gin-and-tonic I had wanted earlier.
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This blog sucks. But your kids are great. So I think it is just you.
ReplyDeleteJust wait til the girl brings you that yearned for G&T. You will cry.
ReplyDeleteThe blog was cute. inog's comment sucks. (But he got the kids part right) Maybe it's just me.
She already calls you Mom and Dad instead of Mommy and Daddy?
ReplyDeleteI personally liked it, gave me an idea to get my girlie calmed down when she's in that mode...the boy too actually, although like Mr. G&T's boy, food and drink usually occupies him and he's happy. I don't have stairs though so I'll have to be more creative with my placement of treasures around the house.
ReplyDeleteSweetness. You should write a booklet full of tips on how to entertain your child so she doesn't interfere with sauce time.
ReplyDeleteOn a serious note, I must say, brilliant.
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ReplyDeleteI would like to note, for anyone who might think there was any element of wholesomeness to this activity (brilliant and well appreciated), that the Tokens of Glory were Octoberfest beer tokens, probably leftover from the last century.
ReplyDeleteOh... I knew right away that the Tokens were from some deviant activity on Mr. G&T's part. I'm pretty sure everyone knew that!
ReplyDeleteLater she'll be quite comfortable with tokens whether they are for beer or poker. These are excellant skills to have.