Piper really likes to give orders - she tells me what to do all the time. You know, like pick me up, take off my shoes, get my beej and pice (blanket and pacifier), put on SpongeBob, no Snowy SpongeBob, no Dora, no Halloween SpongeBob, tell the dogs to come on the bed, get my milk, my apple juice, a rice cake, no a big rice cake, open the refrigerator, close it, turn on all the lights, take me outside at 3am to look at the moon, make me chicken nuggets but not too hot, play the Beatles, no not the Beatles Beatles, the other Beatles, run the water in the bathtub at all times, give me old penicillin that I'm allergic to but is still in the fridge, let me stand on your feet, spit in your face, give me a balloon and cookie from Publix in the middle of the night, change the big big poop in my super butt, let me take over every aspect of your entire life including monitoring your hygiene, sleeping and bathroom habits and...wait, where am I? What just happened? Whew, flashbacks. Summing up, she's a tiny tyrant. Just when I think she's exhausted all possible avenues of control, she finds a new side road of opportunity.
So, if my clever allusions to avenue and road didn't clue you in, Piper's has taken a sudden and profound interest in driving. Well, berating my driving to be more accurate. It started with her screaming at me to "DRIVE!!!!" whenever I stopped at a red light or used the brakes for that matter. She couldn't bear for the car to slow down, so I decided to explain that there are other cars on the road and I can't just barrel over them like we're in a monster truck show and it was as if she had never noticed other cars prior to this statement. It, of course, led to her total panic whenever there was a single car in a 300-foot radius, tears, wailing that I needed to "watch out for other cars" and a kind PTSD reaction (that had no root in any real traumatic incident) upon hearing a car horn. Me saying, "it's just how cars talk to each other" was greeted with total horror and led to a submissive demeanor around parked cars and her desire to "feed them" grass and sticks, I assume, to appease their momentarily lulled blood lust.
Obviously that tact didn't work and, most importantly for my in/sanity, led to even more screaming while trapped in a closed and tiny compartment together. To be totally honest, I was doing my fair share of yelling things like, "When you learn to poop in the potty, you can tell me how to drive," so clearly things needed to change for both of us. So, I decided to explain the concept of traffic lights - you know, to my 2.5-year-old lunatic kid. I told her that when "the light turns green, we can go." Now no matter where we are on the street or how far away a traffic light might be, Piper is on the look out for "Green Turns" and her prevailing visibility is similar to the average 747. She wants me to go even if our immediate light is red, but she can see a faint glimmer of green 16 traffic lights ahead. She is confounded by stop signs, turning right on red, yellow lights and pedestrians. If she had her way, all lights would forever be green, I'd go an average of 60 miles an hour, mow down any pedestrians and be surrounded by a school bus, garbage truck and cement mixer at all times. Funny thing is, these are some of the most reasonable requests I've heard from her in the last year, so don't be surprised if you see us following your garbage man down the street at top speed later this week.
So, if my clever allusions to avenue and road didn't clue you in, Piper's has taken a sudden and profound interest in driving. Well, berating my driving to be more accurate. It started with her screaming at me to "DRIVE!!!!" whenever I stopped at a red light or used the brakes for that matter. She couldn't bear for the car to slow down, so I decided to explain that there are other cars on the road and I can't just barrel over them like we're in a monster truck show and it was as if she had never noticed other cars prior to this statement. It, of course, led to her total panic whenever there was a single car in a 300-foot radius, tears, wailing that I needed to "watch out for other cars" and a kind PTSD reaction (that had no root in any real traumatic incident) upon hearing a car horn. Me saying, "it's just how cars talk to each other" was greeted with total horror and led to a submissive demeanor around parked cars and her desire to "feed them" grass and sticks, I assume, to appease their momentarily lulled blood lust.
Obviously that tact didn't work and, most importantly for my in/sanity, led to even more screaming while trapped in a closed and tiny compartment together. To be totally honest, I was doing my fair share of yelling things like, "When you learn to poop in the potty, you can tell me how to drive," so clearly things needed to change for both of us. So, I decided to explain the concept of traffic lights - you know, to my 2.5-year-old lunatic kid. I told her that when "the light turns green, we can go." Now no matter where we are on the street or how far away a traffic light might be, Piper is on the look out for "Green Turns" and her prevailing visibility is similar to the average 747. She wants me to go even if our immediate light is red, but she can see a faint glimmer of green 16 traffic lights ahead. She is confounded by stop signs, turning right on red, yellow lights and pedestrians. If she had her way, all lights would forever be green, I'd go an average of 60 miles an hour, mow down any pedestrians and be surrounded by a school bus, garbage truck and cement mixer at all times. Funny thing is, these are some of the most reasonable requests I've heard from her in the last year, so don't be surprised if you see us following your garbage man down the street at top speed later this week.
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