Aftermath of sibling argument which conveniently took place while I was on the phone.
Me: Why was Madi yelling at you before- repeatedly?
E: Because I was annoying her.
Me: *Sigh* Was that a smart thing to do?
E: (Affronted) Well, she shouldn't have shouted at me!
Me: What did you expect to happen?!
E: I expected her to be the bigger person and deal with it better.
Me: How old are you? And your sister...?
E: 14 and... and... Hmm... how old is she again...?
Me: 8. 14 and 8. That makes YOU the bigger person. Do the maths.
I give him my best withering look. He is fighting a smile. He's enjoying this. In a twisted way I am too, but I don't tell my face.
E: (Patting my arm) It's a figure of speech, mum.
Me: Don't move from here! (I walk into hall and shout for Madi. She appears within 20 seconds, bubbly and co-operative. This is her standard default approach to most things, unless she's in trouble). Babe, you know how you yelled at your brother when he was kicking you on the couch, what else could you have done?
M: Um... I could have asked him to stop kicking me. Rather than shouting.
Me: And if he'd ignored you and carried on doing it...?
M: I could've come through here and told you.
Me: Great idea. Note it for next time. Now... Can you do something for me? Even though he kicked you and was being really annoying... can you be the BIGGER PERSON and apologise for shouting? I think it may help...
M: (Considering my request) But... Jackson is always the biggest person.
This is absolutely true. Emotional intelligence wise, he outstrips them all. Even me. He often patches things up between these two that I don't even get to hear about.
Me: I know babe, but you see (turn to eldest) it's a figure of speech.
M: OK. I'm sorry Ethan.
I smile and give Ethan The Look
E: Thank you Madi.
More of The Look
E: I accept your apology.
Little bit more.
E: I'm no longer offended.
Little bit more still. With higher eyebrows.
Me: And.....?
E: And I'm sorry too.
Thank you. My Big, BIG people.
Showing posts with label argument. Show all posts
Showing posts with label argument. Show all posts
22 Nov 2014
4 Nov 2014
Do not post until 2020
This, like several other posts has been sitting in my drafts folder for ages. It's immensely frustrating. I live in a vibrant household with 4 other people who are kind enough to provide me with bloggable interactions and situations on an almost daily basis. But to publish them too soon (or at all, sometimes) is not funny or clever.
Eventually enough time elapses and stories can be repeated for the good of families everywhere.
I have confiscated E's phone for the following reasons:
1: He took it upstairs with him when I'd expressly requested he keep it downstairs in craft box and tidy his room.
2: He had not tidied room, but was playing on phone in middle of messy room
3: He had complained to younger siblings that I was 'stupid' for confiscating phone for no valid reason. Younger siblings quickly dobbed him in. (There are no secrets with 8 year olds).
Several hours have elapsed. E is going upstairs to bed.
E: I'll need an alarm for tomorrow morning. Please may I have my phone back?
(I do not do mornings. He has me there. I retrieve phone from kitchen drawer).
Me: Just remind me. Whose phone is this?
E: It's yours. You're lending it to me.
Me: Yes I am.
E holds out his hand. I do not release the phone.
Me: And....?
E: I'm sorry
Me: For...?
E: Taking your phone upstairs.
Me: And...?
E: Calling you stupid.
Me: It's really pretty stupid to call another person stupid when that other person is responsible for providing you with many things, including said phone. Out of the goodness of her heart. Isn't it?
E: Yes it is. Absolutely. Very stupid. And rather ironic.
Me: Indeed. I accept your apology. Here's my phone back.
E: Thank you.
Me: You are welcome.
Eventually enough time elapses and stories can be repeated for the good of families everywhere.
I have confiscated E's phone for the following reasons:
1: He took it upstairs with him when I'd expressly requested he keep it downstairs in craft box and tidy his room.
2: He had not tidied room, but was playing on phone in middle of messy room
3: He had complained to younger siblings that I was 'stupid' for confiscating phone for no valid reason. Younger siblings quickly dobbed him in. (There are no secrets with 8 year olds).
Several hours have elapsed. E is going upstairs to bed.
E: I'll need an alarm for tomorrow morning. Please may I have my phone back?
(I do not do mornings. He has me there. I retrieve phone from kitchen drawer).
Me: Just remind me. Whose phone is this?
E: It's yours. You're lending it to me.
Me: Yes I am.
E holds out his hand. I do not release the phone.
Me: And....?
E: I'm sorry
Me: For...?
E: Taking your phone upstairs.
Me: And...?
E: Calling you stupid.
Me: It's really pretty stupid to call another person stupid when that other person is responsible for providing you with many things, including said phone. Out of the goodness of her heart. Isn't it?
E: Yes it is. Absolutely. Very stupid. And rather ironic.
Me: Indeed. I accept your apology. Here's my phone back.
E: Thank you.
Me: You are welcome.
27 Feb 2013
Potatoes
Me and Eldest are having argument animated discussion about the baked potatoes that he made in school 2 days ago.
The recipe sounded really good but far too fiddly for me to ever consider. It involved scooping out the innards halfway through cooking and mixing them with cheese, nutmeg, double cream and 2 others I can't remember (I am especially excited about the double cream part) then re-inserting into the skins for further baking.
Seriously- what a faff! Stab them, oil them, then shove them in the oven and WALK AWAY for 30 minutes I say.
However, I was reaalllyy looking forward to us all eating them. I pictured us all fighting over the last potato as the other kids would be so enthusiastic about this new labour-intensive baked potato, the head chef would feel all quietly smug and happy about the positive yummy noises everyone was making and (most importantly) the whole scenario would serve to further advance my redundancy by stealth programme, as outlined here.
But then he forgot to bring them home.
The following day he discovered his potatoes safe and well inside their tupperware... on top of a radiator. And he left them there. All day. Then he forgot about them again and arrived home potatoless for a second time. The cheesy creamy labour-intensive baked potatoes spent a further night slowly incubating invisible yet powerfully emetic microlife on top of their radiator, little colonies of life in the deserted school. Tonight after a third day of sitting on top of the radiator he brought the tupperware home- and helpfully put it straight in the fridge.
Me: Mate- these can't stay in here. They need to be chucked.
E: You're chucking out my potatoes?
Me: Yeah cause they've not been in the fridge. They're no good anymore.
E: It wasn't my fault- someone put them on the radiator.
Me: Yes, because you left them in school.
E: But I didn't leave them on the radiator- someone else stupidly put them there!
(Is he buying his own argument or winding me up? I really can't tell. I'm losing my edge)
Me: Which they were only able to do because you left them. Twice.
E: Yes, but I didn't leave them on the radiator and make them inedible!
Me: They are your potatoes mate. You should have brought them home.
E: I left them on a desk though- not a radiator.
Me: Hey! YOU are responsible for your OWN potatoes- no one else! You get me?
E: But it wasn't my fault!
(Do I laugh, cry, change the subject or hit him? I go for 3)
Me: Do you have a debating club at school?
E: Uh no. Don't think so.
Me: You should start one. You'd be really good at it.
E: No I wouldn't!
(Should have gone for MORE of 3. Or just 4. I give THE LOOK instead. He holds my gaze for 10 whole seconds then looks at the floor. THE LOOK doesn't need continuous eye contact to be effective. It bores through to the very soul. He's breaking... It's like the final flailing attempts when I beat him at arm wrestling... Just a few seconds more...)
E: (Getting up to leave) I'm going now. You're looking at me in that freaky way. I don't like it.
And it's all over for the potatoes and the head chef! Do not mess with THE LOOK! I allow myself a brief moment of satisfaction, then realise I've still got to cook tea.
The recipe sounded really good but far too fiddly for me to ever consider. It involved scooping out the innards halfway through cooking and mixing them with cheese, nutmeg, double cream and 2 others I can't remember (I am especially excited about the double cream part) then re-inserting into the skins for further baking.
Seriously- what a faff! Stab them, oil them, then shove them in the oven and WALK AWAY for 30 minutes I say.
However, I was reaalllyy looking forward to us all eating them. I pictured us all fighting over the last potato as the other kids would be so enthusiastic about this new labour-intensive baked potato, the head chef would feel all quietly smug and happy about the positive yummy noises everyone was making and (most importantly) the whole scenario would serve to further advance my redundancy by stealth programme, as outlined here.
But then he forgot to bring them home.
The following day he discovered his potatoes safe and well inside their tupperware... on top of a radiator. And he left them there. All day. Then he forgot about them again and arrived home potatoless for a second time. The cheesy creamy labour-intensive baked potatoes spent a further night slowly incubating invisible yet powerfully emetic microlife on top of their radiator, little colonies of life in the deserted school. Tonight after a third day of sitting on top of the radiator he brought the tupperware home- and helpfully put it straight in the fridge.
Me: Mate- these can't stay in here. They need to be chucked.
E: You're chucking out my potatoes?
Me: Yeah cause they've not been in the fridge. They're no good anymore.
E: It wasn't my fault- someone put them on the radiator.
Me: Yes, because you left them in school.
E: But I didn't leave them on the radiator- someone else stupidly put them there!
(Is he buying his own argument or winding me up? I really can't tell. I'm losing my edge)
Me: Which they were only able to do because you left them. Twice.
E: Yes, but I didn't leave them on the radiator and make them inedible!
Me: They are your potatoes mate. You should have brought them home.
E: I left them on a desk though- not a radiator.
Me: Hey! YOU are responsible for your OWN potatoes- no one else! You get me?
E: But it wasn't my fault!
(Do I laugh, cry, change the subject or hit him? I go for 3)
Me: Do you have a debating club at school?
E: Uh no. Don't think so.
Me: You should start one. You'd be really good at it.
E: No I wouldn't!
(Should have gone for MORE of 3. Or just 4. I give THE LOOK instead. He holds my gaze for 10 whole seconds then looks at the floor. THE LOOK doesn't need continuous eye contact to be effective. It bores through to the very soul. He's breaking... It's like the final flailing attempts when I beat him at arm wrestling... Just a few seconds more...)
E: (Getting up to leave) I'm going now. You're looking at me in that freaky way. I don't like it.
And it's all over for the potatoes and the head chef! Do not mess with THE LOOK! I allow myself a brief moment of satisfaction, then realise I've still got to cook tea.
9 Jan 2013
Argumental
There's normally quite a lot of people in our house- kids that belong to us, the kid's friends, our friends, workey people (we run a business from home) and for the last few months our housemate, Anna. The following conversation took place in our house. Pseudonyms are used to protect the identities. It could be ANY of us.
Miss Wormwood: Enough mate. This isn't going to end well is it? Can you see you're winding her up?
Stupendous man: (Expression reveals emotion somewhere between indignation and amusement) Yes- but I am right, aren't I?
Miss Wormwood: You are technically correct, yes- but can you see that your method of delivery isn't helping?
Stupendous man: (Expression reveals that yes, he can see this point of view) Perhaps... I can, yes.
Susie Derkins: So STOP saying it then!
Miss Wormwood: Sshh Susie- I'm talking to Stupendous man. Y'know sometimes it's possible to be right in what you say, but it's unnecessary to say it at that moment in time, or at all, or the way you say it hurts somebody else so saying it makes it wrong. Even though you're right. Do you know what I mean?
Stupendous man: (Head burried in hands, trying to decide whether to laugh or cry. It could go either way) But I AM right though...
Miss Wormwood: Yeah, but why you are saying it? Is it just to be right?
Stupendous man: (Sits bolt upright and smiles) Yes- it is!
Miss Wormwood: You like an argument, cause you like to be right?
Stupendous man: (Big grin) Yes I do!
Miss Wormwood: So you like to get into an argument that you feel is really important and you know you will win it?
Stupendous man: (Incredulous) Yeah... of course!
Miss Wormwood: What about an argument that you feel strongly about, but you think it might go badly and you'll lose- do you ever get into one of those?
Stupendous man: Well, no.
Miss Wormwood: What about an argument that you don't feel that strongly about and it doesn't really matter who's right and who's wrong and someone may end up being upset about it BUT you know you can win it: Do you ever start one of those?
Stupendous man: (Pats my arm in comforting manner and gives his biggest bestest grin) You know what I think right now? I think we really shouldn't be arguing about THIS.
Miss Wormwood: Enough mate. This isn't going to end well is it? Can you see you're winding her up?
Stupendous man: (Expression reveals emotion somewhere between indignation and amusement) Yes- but I am right, aren't I?
Miss Wormwood: You are technically correct, yes- but can you see that your method of delivery isn't helping?
Stupendous man: (Expression reveals that yes, he can see this point of view) Perhaps... I can, yes.
Susie Derkins: So STOP saying it then!
Miss Wormwood: Sshh Susie- I'm talking to Stupendous man. Y'know sometimes it's possible to be right in what you say, but it's unnecessary to say it at that moment in time, or at all, or the way you say it hurts somebody else so saying it makes it wrong. Even though you're right. Do you know what I mean?
Stupendous man: (Head burried in hands, trying to decide whether to laugh or cry. It could go either way) But I AM right though...
Miss Wormwood: Yeah, but why you are saying it? Is it just to be right?
Stupendous man: (Sits bolt upright and smiles) Yes- it is!
Miss Wormwood: You like an argument, cause you like to be right?
Stupendous man: (Big grin) Yes I do!
Miss Wormwood: So you like to get into an argument that you feel is really important and you know you will win it?
Stupendous man: (Incredulous) Yeah... of course!
Miss Wormwood: What about an argument that you feel strongly about, but you think it might go badly and you'll lose- do you ever get into one of those?
Stupendous man: Well, no.
Miss Wormwood: What about an argument that you don't feel that strongly about and it doesn't really matter who's right and who's wrong and someone may end up being upset about it BUT you know you can win it: Do you ever start one of those?
Stupendous man: (Pats my arm in comforting manner and gives his biggest bestest grin) You know what I think right now? I think we really shouldn't be arguing about THIS.
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