I have mercilessly thrown my husband to the wolves.
They are cute wolves, to be sure, but from the sounds of the screams, they must be gnawing off one of his limbs.
I feel very little guilt over this. I suppose that makes me a bad mommy, or an even worse wife, but at this point, I’d gnaw off one of my own limbs rather than walk into that fray right now.
Have you ever reached a saturation point, where the shrieks and whines just leave you numb? According to my GPS (G.od P.lease S.ave me prayer) That’s where I am right about now.
And it all started with a balloon.
Last weekend, the girls had thankfully gotten over an intestinal bug quickly enough to make it to a classmate’s Bday party. Of course there were balloons there, and we snagged a couple on the way out.
Then, after losing one to toddler refusal to have it tied to her wrist, we went back, snagged another victim balloon, and headed back home amid loud exhortations to have the balloons held in TWO hands.
Once there, Zanna, for some reason, wanted to pop hers.
Sensing a teachable moment, I carefully explained to her about ‘consequences’. I explained that if she popped the balloon, she would not have it anymore. Then she would be a sad girl while Halle played with her balloon.
Zanna said she understood, but still wanted to pop it. So I let her.
She actually was pretty sanguine about not having her balloon anymore. I soon found out why:
She had decided that she would ALSO pop Halle’s balloon!
Halle wanted no part of this, and after a mild bout of tearful hysterics, was comforted that her balloon would not be popped against her will.
So Zanna moved on to Plan B. She would convince Halle that she didn’t like her nice balloon, and further, that she actually wanted her kind sister Zanna to pop it for her, thereby ridding the world of that nasty unwanted balloon!
It took a couple of hours of constant badgering on Zanna’s part, but eventually she wore Halle down. Halle was still a bit squeamish about doing the deed herself, so Zanna cheerfully offered to terminate the balloon’s existence.
Ok, I thought, that’s the end of that. I couldn’t have been more wrong, as Zanna stepped up her campaign of balloon terror, but harrassing me ENDLESSLY! She earnestly insisted that I confess to my intense dislike of all things ‘balloon’. Then she insisted that I provide additional balloons and join her in acting out our dislike of these objects by nothing less than their total obliteration from this plane of existence!
Problem was, I didn’t want her popping any more balloons. Despite her having tasted blood, I was hopeful for her rehabilitation into normal society, if I avoided the topic altogether, and hopefully she’d forget all about it.
For THREE DAYS she harrangued, harrassed, pestered, badgered, whined, shrieked and screeched about the darn balloons! In the car, on the toilet, in the mall, at the table, she would NOT let up!!
So I decided that my husband was fair game, as soon as he walked in the door after a harrowing day at the office.
Surprisingly, Zanna did not mention a single thing about balloons to him!
But I know she’s laying in wait to get me alone tomorrow. I can see those glowing eyes peering out from the underbrush of her bangs…planning…waiting…fangs dripping….
And I am afraid.
**Wolf picture courtesy of NPS National Park Service