I Win

When Keaton doesn't get his way, he screams.

His mother, however, has figured him out. When he screams, I just speak to him in a calm voice and then ignore him. It works every time. Eventually.

Tonight he screamed in the parking lot of Tucker's baseball game because he left his bag of tricks at home. To each game he carries a backpack full of little trucks, tractors, gum, suckers, mints, and whatever else he thinks he might need while enjoying another one of Tucker's baseball games, but tonight he left it at home.

He screamed. I calmly explained that it was okay, and we would find a solution. Then I ignored him and continued to walk toward the ball field. In a second or two, he stopped screaming and followed me. I win.

Then, once we were seated he realized he left his gatorade in the car. So we hiked back to the car only to find that he had left the gatorade at home. So he screamed.

As a sidenote, I put two gatorades on the counter before we left and told the boys to each carry their own. They both immediately picked up the bottles and headed straight for the truck. I saw them, so I know it happened just that way. Somehow, neither gatorade made it to the game. I don't even know how it's possible, but it happened. There must be a black hole in the garage.

Anyway, Keaton was screaming again. I calmly told him that when Daddy got to the game with some money we could buy a new gatorade, and then I ignored him. He stopped screaming. I win again.

On the way home, he decided he wanted McDonalds for dinner. I told him we would eat at home tonight and maybe stop another night to eat out.

He screamed. I ignored him.

But he kept screaming.

This time he added what I'm sure he thought were great arguments.

"I AM TELLING THE TRUTH! I WANT MCDONALDS!"

"I AM NOT EATING ANYTHING TONIGHT UNLESS IT'S MCDONALDS!'

"YOU GO TO MCDONALDS RIGHT NOW!"

Undaunted, I cranked up the radio as loud as it would go (some REO Speedwagon was playing, so that was fun), and I continued to ignore him. When we got home, Trey got him out of the truck and recognized the problem, and Keaton continued to scream off an on for the next few minutes.

As he sat at the bar in the kitchen while we all started throwing together dinner, he stopped screaming to announce authoritatively, "I am not eating anything that doesn't come from McDonalds."

"That's your choice," I said, "Good luck getting there." And I walked away.

What happened? He ate a hot dog. I win again.

Something else didn't go his way just a few minutes later -- I think I stopped paying attention to his percieved misery around 7:30 -- and the words came out of my mouth before I remembered he was four.

"Stop. Instead of crying or screaming can you please just speak to me like a grown up?"

Clearly he's a long way from being a grown up, but I was making a point, for goodness sakes. He stopped, composed himself, and spoke to me in as grown up a voice as he could muster.

I win again.