One morning last week Scarlette asked me for a snack so I put some pretzels in a bowl and pulled out a carton of orange juice.
I don’t know if you know this about me but I am pretty amazing at making pinterest-worthy snacks. Except the opposite of that.
I sat it all out on the table and then went back in the kitchen to make myself some more coffee because Scarlette had been up all night long and I was the kind of tired where the coffee can not brew fast enough. Not even a Keurig can keep up with the need for caffeine on those days.
Scarlette came wandering back into the kitchen and planted her hands on her hips as she said “Um Mommy? You forgot to give me a dwink!”
And I looked at the carton of orange juice in my hand and I vividly remembered pouring it so I said “No I didn’t, it’s on the table.”
She kept insisting that I had not poured her a drink and I wondered for a minute if I was going crazy because I was absolutely sure that I had poured her a glass of orange juice so finally I told her to go sit back down at the table and eat her snack.
She left the room and then she called out “NO MOMMY! ACTUALLY I DON’T WANT DIS SNACK!”
And I was all “Scarlette, you asked me for pretzels and I gave you pretzels, end of discussion” because I was not even in the mood for that game y’all.
And then she started crying and kept saying “NO MOMMY! I DON’T WIKE IT WHEN YOU DO DIS! DIS IS NOT A GOOD SNACK FOR ME!”
So I walked into the dining room and saw her sweet tiny little self sitting in the chair sniffling.
And in front of her sat a bowl of pretzels floating in orange juice.
After that I was like “Let’s play a game called Sit Quietly On Mommy’s Bed And Watch Veggie Tales While Mommy Rests Her Eyes For A Little Bit.”
Parenting. Nailed it.
