You’re not the boss of me!

QUICKIE: Me: “Vincenzo, what holiday is tomorrow?”  Vincenzo: “Forgiving!”
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Ever since Vincenzo could talk he has used most of his words to tell other people what to do and how to do it.  He’s definitely more of a foreman than a bricklayer–more pimp than whore.  He’s a three-year-old who is constantly being told to “stop micromanaging.”  If he tells me to sit on the middle couch cushion and meow like a cat I’ll sit on the far left cushion and bark like a seal.  I keep telling him he can control his own imagination but he can’t control others’ imaginations.  This has caused much wailing and rending of clothes but after three years solid of this, Vincenzo lets me do my own thing.  At least once a week, anyway.

Kevin, however, just can’t stand up to Vincenzo.  He doesn’t want to make him mad and he thinks the bossing around is kind of cute.  I keep telling him he has to stand up for himself–Vincenzo has to learn to ride in the backseat once in awhile.  Just listen to their hatching game from last night:

V: Daddy stay there.  I’m going to get a blanket.  STAY THERE!
K: OK.
V: [returning] Which blanket is your favorite, Daddy?
K: The blue one.
V: No it’s not it’s this one.  Here.  Now get under it.  Pretend you’re a baby and you’re going to hatch.  No not like that, like this. [V demonstrates proper hatching technique.]
K: [hatching] Peep peep!  Peep!
V: No Daddy.  You’re a baby dog not a baby chick.
K: Bark!
V: No Daddy.  Say, “Woof.”
K: Woof!
V: Not like that, Dad.  Say, “WOOOOOF!”
Etc. etc. etc.

This kind of playing has earned Vincenzo nicknames such as “His Royal Highness” and “The Pharoah.”  But while I do not want to raise the next anarchist, it hit me last night:

If I keep telling Kevin to stand up to Vincenzo, Kevin might start getting notions and try standing up to me. 

What if he stops jumping every time I say, “Carry my purse.”  or “Stand behind me so the paparazzi can get a better shot of my profile.”  or “Stir the custard for a continual two hours.  Stir faster.  Not that fast.  Not that slow.  Not that circular.  Here just let me do it.”

So I guess I’ll let Vincenzo boss Kevin around because I won’t risk lumpy custard for the hopes of raising a well-adjusted, socially pleasant child.  Would you?

WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Peach Salsa Chicken Breast
Penne a la Vodka
Salad with Gorgonzola and Apples
Cherry Ricotta Tartlets

4 thoughts on “You’re not the boss of me!

  1. Man, I’m jealous. My husband refuses to lie under a blanket like a freshly hatched dog. He won’t even carry me up the stairs if I’m tired. Slacker!

  2. Um, NO! Just have to say you are on the right track with Vincenzo. We like to crush their spirits and then remold them to our liking. Family life is so much more pleasant that way 😉

  3. My son is the same way. I stop playing until he comes to his senses sometimes. Oddly, the same happen with my wife.

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