Something completely unrelated.
Communication is important in raising a child. We should know, cuz we don’t have it. This was demonstrated in a recent household occurrence. One featuring…. Chocolate Pie.
To appreciate the experience, you need some background. The wife has a simple strategy for dealing with kids wanting sugar filled items. “Don’t feed it to them and they won’t know it’s good.” Now, she knows that it isn’t realistic. But a parent can dream. Occasionally, the child gets hooked on something, and I get blamed. This would be unfair, if it weren’t usually true.
So, why doesn’t Misti’s strategy work? Simple, we aren’t dealing with dogs, this is a human being, that might eventually learn something. That something is, if my parents eat it, it is probably good. This is why, in later years with more experience, parents will resort to eating things that aren’t good; kipper snacks, brussel sprouts, drinking buttermilk, etc. They are trying to throw the kids off the scent of the really good stuff.
Back to the chocolate pie. Simple explanation, I’m hiding in the basement, minding my own business. I hear the wife upstairs, she is feeding my son Chocolate Pie. ( If you don’t know how I knew this, please refer to my post on Spidey senses.) Instantly, my thoughts were, “ What is she doing, if she feeds him that, he is going to ask for more. That’s MY chocolate pie.” Which, by the way, was completely true, for the next few days he would go to the fridge and ask for chocolate pie. Till I ate it all, Bwahahaha. It was during one of these face covered in chocolate pie episodes, that Misti pipes up and says, “ Why did you feed it to him to begin with, now he goes to the fridge and that’s all he wants.”
Of course, as a man of honor, I could not let this injustice go unchallenged. “Me? It was you who fed it to him first.”
“I did not. It was you.”
I’ll spare you the details. No hitting was involved.
Turns out, when I was grumbling about her feeding him pie, she was up there grumbling about me having probably fed him pie first. When really, the little stink had figured it out all on his own.
This is how wars start.
up and says, “ Why did you feed it to him to begin with, now he goes to the fridge and that’s all he wants.”
Of course, as a man of honor, I could not let this injustice go unchallenged. “Me? It was you who fed it to him first.”
“I did not. It was you.”
I’ll spare you the details. No hitting was involved.
Turns out, when I was grumbling about her feeding him pie, she was up there grumbling about me having probably fed him pie first. When really, the little stink had figured it out all on his own.
This is how wars start.
The Male Mom 
