It’s gotten seriously real up in the Babysitting Thunderdome today, folks. I got here this morning, and everybody was fine and dandy. The baby cried a little bit more than usual when his Mommy left, but that was to be expected after he’d had her around all weekend long. A. settled down pretty quickly, and ate a big breakfast of strawberries and toxically colored Fruit Loops. He even successfully navigated the tossing seas of spoon utilization (with only minimal milk and Loops spillage). Both of us were super proud.
The trouble didn’t start until around 10am, when J. decided he was absolutely starving and demanded potato chips. I said, “Dude, you can’t have chips at 10 o’clock in the morning! Gross! I’ll make you a some fruit.” As I was downstairs cutting up bananas and strawberries, I heard this horrible yelling coming from upstairs. I barreled up the steps, and found J. screaming that A. had hit him, and he was mad.
“I’m sooo mad, Auntie. You guys made me MAD!”
“Okay, dude, but can you be cool for a SECOND so that I can go get your food?”
“No! I’M MAD! GET MY FOOD RIGHT NOW!”
“J.,” I replied, “First of all, sometimes we get mad, but that doesn’t mean we get to stop acting nicely. Second, I’m not going to get you anything, EVER unless you say ‘please’ when you ask me. Is that understood?”
Silence. Total, blank, pitiless silence.
Two minutes later,
“Auntie, will you get me my fruit PLEASE.”
“Yep, J – just a second.”
I went and got the fruit plate, which J. then attempted to refuse to share with A. – resulting in crying, screaming, and kicking on A.’s behalf and gloating on J.’s. I got A. calmed down and gave him a strawberry. OH JOY! I truly wish, with all of my eternal soul, that I could be as happy about ANYTHING as that baby is about getting a strawberry!
They shared okay after that. J., however, didn’t want to eat any bananas or grapes (which was okay because A. was snarfing them up with alacrity), and demanded more strawberries.
“Buddy,” I sighed, “You have to eat what’s on the plate and THEN you can have more.”
“I DON’T WANT BANANAS! GET ME STRAWBERRIES!”
“Kid, we had this conversation. You’re about to get a time out. You don’t ask for more food until you finish what you have, and you say ‘please’ when you ask. Understood?”
Silence. Black hole caliber, in-space-no-one-can-hear-you scream silence.
The world’s smallest, most reluctant, tiniest little, “yes.”
Ten minutes later, when I was changing the baby, J. snuck downstairs and got into the chips. I caught him red handed. I was displeased. He got told. I hid the chips. I am SUCH A N00B!
As to babies and corn: PARENTS, there is absolutely no reason a human baby should EVER eat corn. It comes out totally undamaged and adds about 76% more grossness to the dirty diaper as a whole. STOP THE CORN, PEOPLE. This is a travesty.
Stay Tuned This Afternoon for: Nervous Breakdown At The Public Library…RCS Staff Writer Hospitalized After Going On Bibliophilic “NO CORN” Rampage.