Threats and bribes

Their childhood merely seems to be a long series of threats and bribes. If I am not threatening – “Knock it off before I sell you to the garbage man”! I am am pleading – “Please stop asking me questions (so that I can finish this chapter of ‘Fifty Shades’) and I’ll take you out for ice cream!”

My kids have labeled me “The Meanest Mom Ever”! and yet, their attempts at arbitration, negotiation and manipulation are masterful. I cave and they know it. Mediation is pointless- their skills far surpass mine.

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One thought on “Threats and bribes

  1. when both girls were little, going to the airport was a regular occurrence. it seemed that someone was always going someplace. i don’t know how or when it started but they were interested in taking only one route there and that was down once vibrant Van Buren Avenue. understand that we could have taken the freeway nearly the whole way to the gate but it was down this street of dilapidated motels, tattoo parlors and rescue missions that drew their pleadings of, “can we please go see the hookers?” we used this as a leverage tool for finishing dinners, brushing teeth or being ready for bed on time.
    they were always aquiver with anticipation when it was time to head out. when we finally got to our gray downtown area in Phoenix and turned East on Van Buren, i’d drop my speed by at least 25 mph to just above the speed limit and then we’d all go on “hooker watch.” we didn’t want to miss a thing. these working girl’s outfits couldn’t have drawn more attention had they been laser lighted sandwich boards on the backs of elephants. the words “garish” and “gaudy” didn’t even come close to describing them. some wore short, short skirts that had a metallic sheen while others exhibited décolleté that infringed on topless. most had lost their figures to chips, McDonalds and Snickers and it was always amazing that they could balance on what seemed to be 18″ spiked heels. the girls would crane their necks and shout when they made a sighting. it was much like that infernal Volkswagen sighting game of “Slug Bug” that my grandsons use to play with me and that i’ve blocked out because i was so miserable at it.
    the strip on which we use to sightsee was about 2 miles long and we laughed a lot at what we saw. there was never any discussion about these girls past the chatter over what they wore. their mother and i did occasionally wonder if this was a healthy activity and decided not to broadcast it to neighbors.
    when MaryLynn invited a friend for a sleep over, i was asked to pretend to be a waiter and serve the two of them drinks and snacks at a table on the back porch. i loved the role playing and immediately agreed. “Oh good,” replied Mary Lynn, “then we’ll go get dressed up.” they emerged in about 10 minutes wearing an assortment of mismatched clothes with high heels and appeared as if they had fallen face first into the make up drawer. as i seated them at the table, i asked, “and what do you ladies do?” i was told, “we’re hookers.” a little more than concerned i queried, “so……
    what’s a hooker?” without the slightest hesitation MaryLynn responded, “a hooker is a girl who takes rides from strangers.” with that cute little reply, their mother and i decided to get out while the getting was good and begin to take the freeway all the way to the airport.

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