We're in the car, driving back from Utah County. We've stopped at Target to get a new tire for Dallin's bike (which they didn't even have). Dallin is frustrated that I would not buy a treat (hey, we'd just been to McD's!) or another toy. (Um, remember, you had a birthday exactly ONE week ago???)
So the conversation goes like this:
Dallin: Mom, I want a toy!
Me: Dallin, we aren't buying any toys. Please do not ask me again.
Dallin: I want a toy! I want a toy! I want a toy! I WANT a toy! I WANT a toy. I WANT a toy. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY.
Dallin and Sariah (chanting): I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I. want. a. toy. I. want. a. toy. I. want. a. toy. I. want. a. toy. I. WANT. A. TOY. I. WANT. A. TOY. I. WANT. A. TOY. I. WANT. A. TOY.
Now keep in mind, Dallin had already been told at least five times that we were not buying toys OR treats, and no matter how many times he asked or pestered, the answer would still be no. So my only real recourse was to ignore the chanting and to pretend like it wasn't getting on my nerves.
Which I did.
But boy, I have one persistent child on my hands. They went on and on and on and on. Well, Dallin did. Sariah kind of gave up after awhile, and she wasn't all that into it. She was just doing it because Dallin told her to.
After about five minutes of "I want a toy" over and over and over, Dallin realized it wasn't going to work, so then he went on to his latest technique designed to wear Mommy down. It's actually quite creative, you gotta admit. His new thing is to get Sariah to cry, thinking that while I may not feel sorry for him, I will feel sorry for Sariah and give in to her.
So he says, "Hey, Sariah, Mommy's not ever going to buy you a treat or a dolly. Ever!"
At this point Sariah is falling asleep in her car seat and essentially says, "So what."
But my goodness, the whole afternoon was like this. Every store. Asking. And asking. And asking. And being told no. No. No. Then the chanting would begin. When that didn't work, he's start in on Sariah, either picking a fight with her or telling her about all the things Mommy wasn't going to do for her or get for her, hoping she would cry and melt my heart.
Even as I've been writing this post, it's continued. No, we are NOT having ice cream or licorice for dinner. No, I don't know where the licorice is. It's Daddy's licorice anyway, we gave it to him for his birthday. No. No. No.
Argh! Argh! Argh!
I need a nap.
So the conversation goes like this:
Dallin: Mom, I want a toy!
Me: Dallin, we aren't buying any toys. Please do not ask me again.
Dallin: I want a toy! I want a toy! I want a toy! I WANT a toy! I WANT a toy. I WANT a toy. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY.
Dallin and Sariah (chanting): I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I want a TOY. I. want. a. toy. I. want. a. toy. I. want. a. toy. I. want. a. toy. I. WANT. A. TOY. I. WANT. A. TOY. I. WANT. A. TOY. I. WANT. A. TOY.
Now keep in mind, Dallin had already been told at least five times that we were not buying toys OR treats, and no matter how many times he asked or pestered, the answer would still be no. So my only real recourse was to ignore the chanting and to pretend like it wasn't getting on my nerves.
Which I did.
But boy, I have one persistent child on my hands. They went on and on and on and on. Well, Dallin did. Sariah kind of gave up after awhile, and she wasn't all that into it. She was just doing it because Dallin told her to.
After about five minutes of "I want a toy" over and over and over, Dallin realized it wasn't going to work, so then he went on to his latest technique designed to wear Mommy down. It's actually quite creative, you gotta admit. His new thing is to get Sariah to cry, thinking that while I may not feel sorry for him, I will feel sorry for Sariah and give in to her.
So he says, "Hey, Sariah, Mommy's not ever going to buy you a treat or a dolly. Ever!"
At this point Sariah is falling asleep in her car seat and essentially says, "So what."
But my goodness, the whole afternoon was like this. Every store. Asking. And asking. And asking. And being told no. No. No. Then the chanting would begin. When that didn't work, he's start in on Sariah, either picking a fight with her or telling her about all the things Mommy wasn't going to do for her or get for her, hoping she would cry and melt my heart.
Even as I've been writing this post, it's continued. No, we are NOT having ice cream or licorice for dinner. No, I don't know where the licorice is. It's Daddy's licorice anyway, we gave it to him for his birthday. No. No. No.
Argh! Argh! Argh!
I need a nap.
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