Watching yourself grow up before your eyes as you raise your
difficult gifted child is always interesting. Daily, I consider how my mother must have handled the contrarian bratty entitled inquisitive nature of mine as I attempt to parent my mini-me in a loving and logical way.
At the dinner table this evening, our conversation turned to things that we were thankful for:
Lawyer: I’m thankful for my mom, dad, brothers and our wealthy family. (heh-ok kid whatever you want to believe)
Perfectionist: I’m thankful for NOTHING.
Professor: I’m thankful that I’m a Christian.
Perfectionist: I’m thankful for NOTHING!
Me: I’m thankful for my three boys. What else are you thankful for?
Perfectionist: WAAAAH! I don’t want to go last!
Me: Oh? Were you not done?
Perfectionist: No. I’m thankful for NOTHING!
Me: Lovely. Moving on.
Perfectionist: OK. Fine. I’m thankful for Mommy, Daddy, Legos, Candy, Halloween, Jesus and God.
Me: What about your brothers?
Perfectionist: I’m not thankful for them. I just love them. I’m not thankful for them because sometimes they are mean.
Who can argue with that logic and who would argue with a him anyway? Somewhere my mother is laughing very loud as she reads this. I still think she struck a deal with the devil the day that I ran away on my tricycle because I wanted donuts for breakfast.