Wanting Emotional Satisfaction and Not Getting It

This morning actually started last night.

We spent the day yesterday running around, basically. I had Cub Scout duties as well as landlord duties. For the Scouts, I was picking up popcorn for the Fall fundraiser and my landlord duties involved checking out the installation of a new floor in the kitchen of our rental. I got back around lunch time. The Wife, for her part, took the lass to sign her up for this year’s dance lessons.

The rest of the afternoon we spent at a local fair.

We got home and lazed the rest of the day away. The kids weren’t hungry, so I eventually just made the Wife and I a simple dinner.

Shortly after that, the lass put in her breakfast order- she wanted potato pancakes.

Shortly after that, the Wife informed me that we’d be making blueberry pancakes in the morning because the blueberries were starting to show their age.

Shortly after that, I decided I’d cook bacon. Yum.

One thing about the lass is that once she makes up her mind about something, she’s not shy about reminders. Constant, reminders. So it was for the remainder of the evening, with a final “Remember Dad, we’re having potato pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.”

When I came downstairs, this morning, both kids were already up and watching cartoons. The lass waited about 5 seconds and then asked when I would start making the potato pancakes.

At this point, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that she was disappointed by the blueberry pancakes that we made.

Actually, disappointed is what happens when you call heads and it comes up tails. Disappointed is what happens when you don’t win the Sweepstakes.

The lass, upon seeing that she would not be eating potato pancakes for breakfast, threw her arms into the crossed position, harrumphed loud enough to wake the dead, then stomped off towards her room.

“I will not dignify that with a response,” I told the Wife. She harrumphed in agreement. I smiled inside.

As it turned out, the lass never went to her room. Instead, arms still folded and a scowl etched into her face she stalked back into the kitchen. She made the grunting noise she typically does when she’s upset.

Still, we ignored her.

She then picked up her brother’s inflatable bat that he’d won at the fair yesterday and started futzing with it. I told her to stop, since it wasn’t her bat. Finally having received some attention, she looked at me and said “I’m not having that.” She also put the bat down.

We didn’t respond to that either.

By this point, the boy was wolfing down his 4th or 5th pancake, along with some strips of bacon. The Wife had several more pancakes cooked up and ready to go. The lass moved in and sat at the breakfast bar. She told us “I didn’t want blueberry pancakes, I wanted potato pancakes.”

Still, the Wife and I ignored her.

After several more seconds, during which I snorked a couple pieces of bacon and the boy continued to destroy pancakes and the Wife continued cooking up more pancakes, she got down from her stool and stalked around to where the Wife was. She not-so-delicately inserted herself into the area and said “What, am I supposed to eat these without syrup or something?”

The audacity of 6, in all it’s glory.

The Wife informed her that the pile of pancakes the lass had taken were for anyone who wanted them, so nothing had been done to them. If the lass wanted some of them, she was welcome to her own plate and to prepare the pancakes however she’d like.

Without another word, the lass prepared herself a plate of pancakes. Then, quietly, went back to her seat on the breakfast bar.

She ate, without further complaint.