Today, I told Zachary that he was flirting with an elevator ban.
These are the conversations in public in which inevitably people are listening in. And all I can think is "Yes. Yes I AM THE WORST PARENT EVER. Thanks for playing."
Zachary has been having elevator-button pushing-related ABSOLUTE meltdowns the last few mornings. Maybe its because we've replaced his usual pretzels with ritz, because we've run out and we're waiting for fresh direct to fix it. Or maybe because the coffee bean he stuck up his nose hasn't worn off. Yesterday, our neighbor stepped out of her door and pushed the button as we walked out the door and he burst into hysteria. She looked *so appalled* and apologetic and it was like "Oh, no. Please. Do not feel sorry for his crazy. Please. If anything, we are sorry for the charming symphony of displeasure that will follow us ALL THE WAY DOWN."
Right. Today again. We will not even discuss the details.
Which found us standing outside of the elevator bank in our building lobby, my face right up near his using serious parent voice and saying the words "If you can not get a grip we will ban the use of the elevator and only take the stairs. Which will cripple your mother. Who can not bear to hear the shrieking before coffee anymore and is willing to make the trade."
Yeah. I'm adding it to his therapy book.
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1 comment:
Have you considered making coffee at home?
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