If stubbornness is genetic, then I’m screwed. Samu has made it apparent to me that the trait must get stronger with each generation. Let’s say our tenacity was like the technology of glue, then my grandparents dealt with Elmer’s. My parents – Krazy Glue…and me? I’m dealing with thermoplastic assault hot glue gun.
This first Saturday morning of 2013, Samu started in on his usual “I don’t want to eat this” for breakfast drama. We argued for forty-minutes as he painfully forked miniscule amounts into his mouth like it was crushed glass. When it came down to the very last bite, he refused to finish it.
It was a Breakfast Stalemate.
I told him, “If you don’t eat that last bite, you will never get candy – ever – again.”
To prove I meant business, I recruited Daddy to agree, “No breakfast? No candy. Not at the movies, not at parties, not even the free lollipops from the Bodega-beer-guy.”
Next, I acted on it by taking all the candy he stashed away for a rainy day and threatened to toss it in the trash can. I thought for sure he would break. I expected him to mournfully eat that last bite of breakfast, gag dramatically, and reach out to save his candy. But he didn’t. Instead, he crossed his arms and gave me a look that was meant to kill me.
“Fine,” he said, “I don’t need candy and I’m not going to eat your food – ever – again!”
Samu is so stubborn, he’ll screw himself to screw you.
I followed him to his room and while he changed his clothes – his eyes burned with unbridled determination. He would not. Back. Down. It was so funny, I took his picture – and it made him madder.
He held his grudge for the most part of the day and I tried my best to look at his dead-serious expression without laughing. I’ve dealt with stubborn people before but Samu is relentless. Even when we were food shopping, I reminded him of his lost privileges and all he did was ask for junk: chocolate pop tarts, salt n’ vinegar chips, Cocoa Puffs.
By the time we got home at 3:30 pm he was so starving, even his boogers dried up. I gave him string cheese. Then another. Next a ham and cheese sandwich. A boiled egg. A cup of yogurt and a glass of milk. He may be stubborn but he’s never going to win a hunger strike, that’s for sure.
With a satisfied belly, his mood improved and he apologized to me for the morning’s breakfast challenge. I accepted. Like the fool that I am. Because after he had me all buttered up with hugs and kisses and “you’re the best mommy in the world,” repeated a million times, he sweetened his voice even more and asked, “Can I have my candy back?”
Ahhh. A mule and his priorities.