Genesis Of An Argument Pt. 2
Learning my lesson
Beating a dead horse is not a recipe for compelling or funny content — but I do enjoy beating a joke into the ground. The last time I investigated an argument with Rory the tone wasn’t quite right. The tone of that post became more introspective than the amusing look at the absurdity of children I had in mind. Thankfully, my hard-headed child provided more content this morning that prompted this follow up. This one won’t prompt the overwrought hand-wringing and self reflection of the original. Instead, the exchange is provided mostly without comment to show why I often get frustrated with my youngest child. Obviously it’s not going to be wholly without comment, or that would be a short post.
The absurdity takes place this morning. Rory and I managed to pick out his clothes, mostly without argument (he chose a shirt that is too small for him, which I gently pointed out, and was promptly ignored — we live to fight another day). Before going downstairs to get breakfast he says he needs to use the bathroom. Great, no issues thus far. I grab his clothes and tuck them under my arm, preparing to bring them downstairs so he can dress after eating breakfast, as he does nearly every day.
He returns from the bathroom fully naked (he sleeps in underwear and shorts, so he didn’t discard all that many clothes), and asks me, “where are my clothes?”
I calmly (I think) reply, “I have them right here, I was bringing them downstairs. I didn’t know you wanted to put them on now.”
Rory, with some hostility and exasperation, “I don’t want to put them ON, I want to GET DRESSED.”
I don’t want to put them on, I want to get dressed. Chef’s kiss. If trying to create a sentence in a lab to perfectly capture the nonsensical nature of children, it’s possible there’s no better example than “I don’t want to put them on, I want to get dressed.” He is simply incapable of agreeing with anything I suggest or conceding a point. I need more coffee.
To my credit, unlike the “I’m not up early” argument I did not engage. I helped him get dressed, he had breakfast and life went on. The bus will arrive shortly. It’s just another little blip in the great tapestry of life. Still, it’s going to take awhile for “I don’t want to put them on, I want to get dressed” to clear my brain. His shirt is also way too small. I’m moving on.
So funny.