“You daughter is SO GOOD and I never hear you yell at her. How do you do it?” Asked a very tired looking mother at one of those hellish party pick-ups. You know the type--where you have to pull your child from a churning vat of brats hyped up sugar and cola.
“Oh...it is pretty simple...” I said while the other mother continued to call gently to her daughter to find her shoes and socks, but the child was bouncing from the couch to the ceiling ignoring the poor woman’s pleas.
“It is a technique I learned from my mother--I just grab her little arm and whisper threats in her ear. At this age they are SO small and SO easy to frighten.”
Horror spread over the woman’s face. “Do you think that is good for a child?”
“It is hard to tell...you really never know until they are out of the house and away at college...do you? But for now—it works like a charm.” I said and then called to my daughter—”Come along Beautiful Beast”...and off we skipped, my poor emotionally damaged child and I...leaving behind the the Dante-esque party scene, the tired, loving mother and the bouncing brat.