Rob and J.T. went to see Iron Man yesterday. J.T. loved it and kept his eyes closed during the scariest parts. Which was actually a bit about surgery. I think we can safely say he won't be entering medical school in the future.
They made a trip to Wal-mart afterwards to pick up a few pantry necessities. It was there that J.T. informed Rob (on the most crowded aisle of course) that "you yell at me too much. And when you punished me last time it was too much." Which Rob responded to with a gritted teeth grin and a mild "Really?"
Poor child. He gets "yelled at" (translation: scolded, though occasionally there might be actual yelling) too much. Rob has "explained" to him that he doesn't get yelled at too much and if he ever says so in public again, there will indeed be too much yelling.
Over supper I told Rob that the thing that earns J.T. the most scolding from me is when I have to tell him 100 times to do something. "Put your shoes on. Brush your teeth. Hang these shirts in your closet. He just doesn't listen!" I complained. "I can't imagine where he gets that from."
Rob stops. Looks at me. "You can't imagine where he gets that from? You can't imagine where he gets that FROM? Are you kidding?"
Me: "Well... maybe he gets it from me. I can be that way sometimes." Particularly when reading. I tune EVERYTHING out then.
Rob: "You've been that way ever since I've known you."
Sparkly Street Family Update.
8 years ago
13 comments:
You may never know what an appropriate post this was for me!
Loved the tag!
I could have written this post! I sometimes think there's too much yelling too. But the first person to come up with an alternative to motivate action after the 99th time you've asked for something to happen should be awarded a Nobel Prize.
I thought that it was just 4-7 year-old kids, not a genetic disorder!
I tune out when reading too, Fixit never seems to realise.
I have a friend whose hubby is an engineer, she referred to his tune-out-ism as the Engineer's Cone of Silence. Maybe all our kids will be engineers?
Also please tell the Sock-dropper that i would love him to come to Australia even if it is just to slap me, on condition that he brings you too!
I am always on tune here. My Pete is forever saying "How come I didn't know about that?"
answer: didn't listen!!!
Once when Declan was only a toddler he told the checkout chick that I had him trapped (he was buckled into the shopping trolley seat) and that I was hurting him. He pleaded with her with tear filled big puss in boots like eyes, 'help me, help me please, please, she has me trapped, she's hurting me.'
I think she believed him, I went home fully especting a visit from child protection at any moment.
Ask my kids.
It's not the yelling that's scary, it is the hissing through a locked jaw clenched teeth smile, that's scary.
Oh, and I simply cannot believe that you weren't listening Melinda, Rob must not have made himself clear. He should stop mumbling and muttering and then you'll probably hear him.
Sussanah...do you live close to Stomper?
Now Stomper, us Southern gentlemen do not slap women (well, occasionally I do slap Melinda's ass but that's a story for a whole different kind of blog...heh heh.) However if I do somehow make it to Australia I will look you up and challenge you to a severe game of thumb-wrestling where I will CRUSH you.
Sock-Dropper and Mumbling...indeed.
Sadly, Mistah Sock-dropper, I (a) live a long, long way from Sussanah and Tracey and (b) have incredibly weak thumbs so you would indeed crush me. I predict JT could also crush me in a thumb-battle.
Rob's just plain mean.
I still think he should get his own blog though.
He could call it "I was Robbed. Ya hear me? Robbed!"
Note to self...add Aunty to thumb-wrestling to do list when in Australia.
Rob darling, you are bringing the sophisticated nature of my blog down. ;-P
Sussanah, I can empathize. Abby once spent an entire grocery shopping trip screaming "help!" at the top of her lungs. I was sure store security was going to escort me out and call DFACS. And you're right. He MUST be mumbling or something.
Oh, Melinda I think you've been TOLD.
I yell WAY too much. In fact as I type I'm a little hoarse from this morning's yelling (to do with explaining to Blossom that she will just have to put up with wearing socks because, damn it, I just didn't get a chance to wash out her stockings and perhaps she could wash them herself next time.)
....breathe....
So, JT enjoyed Iron Man did he? PL wants to see it and we said no. Could Rob do a review of the movie with the perspective of taking a 7-8yo superhero mad boy along?
Rob, it's a loooong plane trip, no direct flights either, (think Australia, I'm up the top, and Stomper's all the way down the bottom) from Stomper to me, over shark infested waters.
Really, really shark infested waters.
Alright Sussanah, the sharks have won you all a reprieve. It's a shame to I was all set to paraphrase Doc Holiday from Tombstone..."I've got two thumbs, one for each of ya."
M & Aunty, ask and you shall receive. I've bit the bullet and created my own blog, no longer will I eat the tablescraps from Melinda's blog table. I've got my own tablescraps now and the first item is a review of Iron Man for M.
http://cellblock327.wordpress.com or something like that.
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