There is a new game in town. And it has only taken me 16 years to learn it; 21 if I count the the years playing the old game with The Big Boy and My Girl.
This morning, I opened the door to Wild Boy’s room and said, very kindly I might add, “we leave for the doc in 30 minutes.” I shut his door
convinced without a doubt he would instantly obey knowing full well he would do nothing. I repeated this count down until it was 8:13 and I said, outside his door, “We leave at 8:15 and I’m heading to the car.” At 8:20, still no Wild Boy appearance outside. I turned off the car and went back in. He was sitting on the stool in the kitchen, not a care in the world. I made another cup of coffee and sat down in the living room. It was now 8:26. His appointment was scheduled for 8:30. His only comment? “Can we get something to eat while we are out?” Um…that’s a big fat no. He was dumbfounded that I wasn’t going to drive like a bat out of H-E-DOUBLETOOTHPICKS to get him to his appointment, late mind you, and me all stressed out and angry to the max. Again.
Not happening. There’s a new game in town and I’m the Commish.*or whatever name they will choose to insert in place of Commish*
Welcome to the big league, boys and girls.