“Well, I really wanted to have a nice sit down, order from a menu meal with you tonight.” I started.
“But, Mom I want to order at the counter, and push the thing for the ketchup.” He whined.
“OK,” I said. “This is your night. You decide.”
“Can I just have fries instead of…”
“Yes,” I said.
And when he didn’t eat his fries because they were drowned in ketchup and asked if he could get popcorn at the movie theater,
I said YES again.
The only NO was to the Nerf gun with the pellets, but that was followed by a YES to the plug in (insert horrible character based on a yellow sponge’s name here) car racing game thing. This was after all his “graduation” gift, on his night with his mom.
Marcel was home with Uncle on their own inside adventure that I hoped not to hear the details about.
Was it before I shelled out pockets full of would be college funds into the arcade game where we were co-piloting a race car that he said with a wide smiling look; Mom I don’t even know you. Are you really my mom? You are letting me do a whole of things that you usually think are really bad ideas.
The biggest ah-ha in my new unrecognizable glory; I say NO an awful lot. Then when he and I talked about it a bit, we discovered that not listening to my requests is another kind of no. Could we both hang out in Yesland a little more?
Worth a visit we agreed. Then it was back to handfuls of super buttery popcorn (the easiest Yes of the night) fifty thousand over stimulating previews, and a movie about training a dragon. Or was that, a life about retraining a controlling parent with the help of two very astute kids?