Jayme was 8 at the time. The family was playing in the back
yard… and she got a little cheeky with me so I thought I’d show her who’s the
boss. I grabbed her by the ankles and suspended her over a Jabba the Hut-sized, pooch-pile
and said, “Honey, I’m warning you…” she defiantly giggled. I responded, “no I’m serious,
I’ll drop you right here and now if you don’t…” and before I could come up with
another word, the worse possible thing happened. The fearless child reached,
grabbed a handful of doggie excrement, did a mid air sit up, and crammed it in
my face. Can you say, "Freak out moment?"
I would have yelled at her, but I was too busy running for the shower… oh how I wanted to be mad. After a good facial scrubbing, Renae’s only consoling was that I had somehow “asked for it”. It was time to have a chat with Jayme. But something about those blue-eyes and that big grin on my third grader’s face - I couldn’t help but to be proud of my fearless little girl. But we did make it clear that was something that would never happen again… I think it was called a truce.
With my little girl recently turning 18, I’ve learned to be careful what threats I make to my kids, as I may just find it’s me with egg (or worse) on "my" face.