When your children sound like you

DM and I have both been a little pissy today — him because he had expectations for today that didn’t weren’t met and me because I spent the afternoon playing the PhD student game (meaning, making stupid revisions on my field statements that have nothing to do with my arguments or, really, the purpose of the field statements just to please one committee member who thinks he knows something about a field because he is friends with a person who wrote a couple books).

As a result, I was feeling a little ornery and DM was feeling a little over-reacty so I started poking at him. Initially, I was poking verbally but then because it is late and I’m tired and it’s fun, I started poking him literally. Of course, I was careful not to lead with my fingernail and poked gently and even accompanied it with the obligatory “poke. poke. poke. poke.” as I poked.

But then I got in trouble. With my daughter.

“Mama! Don’t poke daddy! He doesn’t like it!”

Boo – Pkin won’t let me do anything fun…but I found a way out!

“Daddy didn’t say he didn’t like it,” I said. “Daddy should use his words!”

“Right. Daddy, use your words!”

DM wasn’t playing along.

“Daddy, say ‘Please stop poking me,” Pkin instructed.

He still wasn’t playing along.

“Daddy, use your words!”

“Please stop,” DM finally played along — a little bit.

Crap. Now I actually have to stop. Pkin isn’t any fun at all!

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