Remember In Living Color or am I dating myself? I loved that show. Remember Homey the Clown? Well, that’s the inspiration for my title.
Soso doesn’t usually give me too much grief. I’m thinking that will be #2. Once in a while, she will test me. Especially this year. It must be a first grade thing.
First grade freshness? Mama don’t play that.
A couple of days ago, I made the “mistake” of telling Soso that I was picking her up instead of Daddy. I guess she got confused and thought I was picking her up at school instead of her afternoon care. I don’t know if anything happened after school to cause her embarrassment (she’s easily embarrassed) due to this said confusion.
When I picked her up, she was Miss So-attitude. “Mama I thought you were picking me up from school.”
Why would you think that? OK, whateva. Moving on because it is late, I’m trying to merge into traffic, I need to get home and cook.
But she can’t let it go. “You know, you didn’t have to tell me you were picking me up from PT.”
I thought you may want to know since you’re used to Daddy picking you up.
Still sulking. “You didn’t have to tell me. What you thought I would die if you didn’t tell me?”
SCREECH. HALT. SQUEALING TIRES. Figuratively speaking folks in case you thought I got into an accident.
I guess my tone wasn’t enough warning. “You thought I would die if you didn’t tell me that you were picking me up? I didn’t have to know.”
I was actually blown away by the hostility and my initial instinct was to scream, “What the frick are you talking about?” But I took a calming breath and said in very quiet, but what I imagine must have been a deadly voice, “I’m not sure what you’re mad about. I think you need to think very carefully about what it is you’re trying to say and then say it to me only when you’re perfectly clear.”
And I left it at that.