Checkmate, Biatch

This parenting thing really kicks my butt sometimes. Just when I think I’ve mastered it, someone decides to grow older and change, which throws me off my game completely.

Ellie is the forerunner for her two younger sisters. She is the one who constantly threatens to drive us crazy on more than one occasion. Daily, in fact. Even as I type this she is running around my living room, spitting in the air. I don't know why and I'm not gonna ask.

But Ellie is smart (aside from the spitting incident). VERY smart. Sometimes we underestimate just how smart she is until it’s too late.

For instance …

Ellie asked me if she could watch TV and I told her no. “You already watched a show this morning so you can find something else to do.”

And so the game begins. I can see the wheels in her tiny head spinning as she thinks about how to play this.

She, oh so skillfully, started playing with my hair (which she knows is my kryptonite). Like I said, she isn't dumb.

One pawn down.

source

As I fell into a trance, my hair being stroked ever-so-perfectly by my four year old, she asked, “Mommy, you said I can’t watch TV, right?”

“Correct,” I said.

“But I can find something else to do?”

“Yes,” I said as my eyes rolled back in my head and my mouth fell open.

Rook gone.

“Do you think I could learn when I do something?”

“Uh huh. Good idea.”

Another pawn ... slain.

“I think I’ll play the computer then.”

“Okaaaayyyy… zzzzz” (my mouth is completely open, drool pooling on my new "Silent Night, Holy Night" pillow).

Bishop destroyed. King exposed.

“Okay, so I'll just sit at my computer, okay? Okay? Mom?”

[no response]

The enemy advances quickly.

I wake up 20 minutes later to the sound of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in the background. She was watching her show ... on the computer. Technically not breaking any rules. Technically.

As I looked in her big, brown eyes there was a hint of something...like she was thinking, "Checkmate, Biatch."