We Don’t Negotiate With Terrorists or Threenagers
Now don’t get me wrong, we really can’t complain with George, he doesn’t have many tantrums at all. I’d like to lay claim to that being down to me, but in reality it’s Karen and her DNA. Today however was one of those, “How can I be so heartless?” moments, as today there was no negotiation, it really was “Our way or our way”.
How Do You Like Your Eggs?
I like mine pretty much whatever way you want to do them. George likes his non-existent for the most part, or in cake, cake is a good use of eggs. This morning George had seen Hey Duggee, Duggee had been eating omelette and George said he’d like omelette for lunch, knowing it was eggs. Interesting.
High Noon Chicken
Come lunch time Karen asked George if he wanted eggs for lunch and if he wanted omelette, to which he declared he wanted his eggs boiled, not dippy, but hard boiled. That’s what he got and that’s the start of losing an hour of our day. Lunch progressed, sandwiches were eaten, crisps were eaten, tomatoes were eaten, cucumber was eaten, ham was eaten, the egg was not.
Normally in these circumstances that’d have been fine, but we’ve been having a bit of an issue with things being asked for and then not eaten. Today was the final straw, with not to much as a hint of even touching the egg. That’s when the game of chicken began.
Tears, Snot, Dribble and Drool
Please (signed), may leave table?
Normally George will await an answer, but today he knew a game was afoot and he was off, making it all of about 2ft from the dining table before the re-capture. What followed was 55 minutes of a cycle of:
- Please eat some of your egg, you asked for egg, so you have to eat some of it before you can leave the table
- Crying & tears
- Snot and drool
- “I want my Mummy”
Inbetween we did have one moment of egg white going in the mouth, but it was just spat out. I’ll give him his dues, at not point did he try and leave the table again, but he also didn’t try the egg.
At some point as we were losing the will to live, we took the choice down to a fork with a small piece of egg white on it and a spoon with a small piece of egg yolk. It didn’t help.
After nearly an hour of feeling like the worst human being on the planet, with no heart or soul I had to give in to him trying to sit on my lap. After 5 minutes of cuddles and subtlety trying to feed him a piece of egg, he relented, ate some egg white, received a big cheer, and all was good in the world again.