The Dictator …a typical day

Having three boys, I should be prepared for any and all potential embarrassing situations but the truth is, each of my boys are so different that I really am thrown into the deep end each and every time one of them provides ‘entertainment’ for the public.

Having nine years between my youngest two, I had forgotten how dictators can say and do absolutely anything and I actually forgot the ‘But whys’ phase- how did I forget this?…I may have blacked it out, who knows.

The dictator brought the memories of ‘but whys ’ and little boy ‘habits’ back into the forefront of my mind recently, here’s how:-

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He stood in the middle of the park. One hand on his hip while the other hand occasionally checked to see if ‘mickey’ was still there .

What is it with boys and their ‘Mickey’s’ eh?

“Take your hand away from there” I sighed, this was fast becoming my new catchphrase. “It is MY mickey! I am just checking!” He roared. “Your mickey is private, you shouldn’t be checking it all the time” I bent down to him, “No one will want to play with the little boy who keeps checking mickey”- the truth was he wasn’t the only kid I had noticed checking their bits but I still didn’t want my kid to be ‘at himself’ all day everyday.

He dropped his hand. Looked at me and smiled . “Okay mammy, I won’t do it ever ever ever again, I promwise” I had heard these promises a million times before.

His need to ‘check’ began once he started potty training and now that he is fully trained he continues to check . I innocently thought this was a good thing, at the start, but now it seems to have become a habit rather than an awareness of how his ‘bits’ work.

“Come on and we go into the playground, and Dee Dee, no touching..”

“Jeesus mammy, I know , I know” his impression of his older brother is immaculate yet so embarrassing. “Don’t use that word Dee” I scolded. “Alright, I won’t …I promwise, ever ever again”

I don’t trust his ‘promwises’ but what choice do I have? I can’t call him a liar or make him swear on his mothers life or anything like that (I am an adult now, and one must adult, plus I ain’t getting him to swear on anyone’s life, especially mine!), so instead I respond with “good boy”.

The playground was full with little dictators all running around like their pants were on fire. I think these kids know all the others are in school and that the world is theirs, for a few hours at least. My dicator joined in and began to boss every other dicator around. I sat down and did my best to ignore them all.
It’s hard to ignore your dictator when theirs is the only voice you can clearly hear bossing everyone around. I sighed. I knew I’d have to approach and remind him sharing is caring and all that crap, which we all say but really, we’d rather they just played nicely so we can sit and let the sun shine on our faces while we make a mental list of all the stuff we have to get done before the older kids get home, or perhaps that’s just me?

“Dee, be nice please. Share and take turns, good boy” He smiled “ sure mammy sure”. A Simply perfect response,what a lovely little boy he appeared to be, I watched as he shared his bucket and spades , I felt pride as he could be heard saying “You’re next then you then me!”

Pride, ain’t it lovely? What is it they say, pride comes before the fall… Oh that fall came.

I sat back down as a few mothers smiled sweetly at me as we all watched our now calm dictators playing nicely. I began to stare off into the distance dreaming about having a nanny, a cleaner and a tidy home… “Jeesus…Jeesus!”

I didn’t need to look, I knew who it was. I felt my face burn as I got up and galloped towards him for fear of what could come out of his mouth next.

“My Mickey is standing up! Can I touch it now mammy Jeesus look mammy look !” I was about to grab him and see if he would fit in my bag or a hole (which I was hoping would appear) when he added “does your Mickey stand up mammy?”

There is a lesson there, I know.

I know now I should have explained that ‘mickey’ stands up when he needs to pee and that we don’t announce it to the world or that mammys don’t have mickeys .

I would like to tell you all I explained all this to my innocent almost 3 year old son. I didn’t.

I smiled and said “Let’s go buddy, I think you need to use the toilet” I took his hand, grabbed his toys, continued to smile at the other mammys who were,in fairness just as embarrassed as I was, (and probably delighted it wasn’t their kid) I dragged him and his mouth out of the playground..that  hole , I was hoping for, never appeared.

“Oh I see, so mickey pops up then I pee” he smiled while trying to check mickey all the way home. We live five minutes from the playground, thankfully, and of course a wee was made as soon as he got home.

Later I did try to explain why he should not say such things especially when we are in public only to be met with the most annoying, tiring response any child can give you – yes folks- the ‘But whys’ …

So I quit, I gave up…I told him if he keeps checking mickey it will fall off and that if he say the ‘Jesus’ word like that again , Santa won’t come.

FYI these ‘facts’ do not stop the ‘But Whys’, they encourage more and more ‘But Whys’.

Moral of the story; Ensure there is a quick, easy and accessible ‘getaway’ escape route when out with the dictator or gag him.

This was originally published on FamilyfreindlyHQ

 

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