I like to think of myself as a benevolent dictator. I am lord and master of my domain. I want respect and obedience. I do not want nor will I indulge whining and open defiance, especially from a 3-year-old who still needs me to meet his basic needs and keep him alive.
So, when I tell him to come downstairs right now and he refuses, he has no right to certain perks of my household. Like food. So no one speed dials Child Protective Services, this would have been a snack post-dinner. Not a life-sustaining meal.
If you are under 18 years old, living under my roof and eating my food, you have no vote. I'm not thinking of running for public office with this platform. But, if you want to be fed, you better follow me down to the kitchen where I keep the food. If you choose to lie on the floor, wailing and sobbing, I will treat you like a speed bump. I will step over you and go about running my fiefdom. Breakfast is in 11 hours. See you then.
To read more from Barb, visit My Crazy Life - Live, Laugh, Love
I am a stay-at-home mom of a school-aged daughter and not-quite-school-age son. I am passionate about my family, friends, writing, running and crafts. I'm a regular mom trying to survive the crazy world of parenthood.