A few years ago when Colton was fourish he, as fourish year olds do, dove head first into the whine and tears phase childhood.
Every day begins with, "I don't want to" (insert ANYTHING here because that is exactly what Colton doesn't want). He whines, he cries, he complains, my head hurts. By noon I have scolded, reprimanded, redirected, given timeouts, locked myself in the bathroom and breathed, breathed, breathed until I could re-enter the world of Colton. A whiny, non-stop talking, crying world of noise, noise, noise.
Last week I had a loaner car while mine was in the shop being serviced. The car was brand new and had all the current spaceshipish technology. A screen that pops up when you are reversing. A touch screen that operates the radio. A remote entry button that pops the trunk door up and then if you push it again it lowers it back down and weirder than weird to me is the fact that you don't even need a key to start the damn thing.
Colton was beside himself. He wanted to open and close the trunk over and over and if he had his way I would have driven around in reverse the entire day so that he could watch it all on the screen. Also. He whined. In the car. At home. In class. He whined. ALL. DAY.
2:00 p.m. rolled around and we were on our way to pick Keenan up from school. We got in the car and immediately he began to whine because he wanted, while I was driving, to push the button to open and close the trunk door. Let me think. NO.
He cried hysterically. With real tears, for several minutes. I seriously thought my head was going to explode into a million tiny pieces of mombrain smattered all over the car. I couldn't take ONE MORE SECOND of the whining and crying. I was desperate.
Silence. Beautiful, whine and cry free silence.
"Okay then. Stop whining. My ears hurt and I need some silence," I said smiling smugly at my brilliance.
A few minutes of GLORIOUS silence followed. No sound. Nothing. I think he was even breathing quieter than usual. After several minutes, as four year olds do, he forgot about the eject button.
"Can we stop for ice cream today?" He asked.
"I want ice cream," he said in a whiny voice and instantly the tears started flowing.
Dramatically I lifted my arm and reached towards the dashboard and what he thought was an "eject" button.
Yes. I know. I am pure evil. Am I proud of myself? No. Would I do it again? Absolutely.