And the Oscar goes to…

So, the Academy Awards were last night. I’m not usually a big fan, but I did eventually turn it on after the kid went to bed. I didn’t watch it all, but I loved the tour bus section. I evidently missed the big Best Picture snafu going to bed early. During the time I watched, I realized that if they had a category for Best Actress in the role of Suffering Pre-Teen, my child would have KILLED IT with her performance yesterday afternoon!!

Let me set the stage… We went out yesterday to have lunch and run a few errands. Part of this resulted from her finding money when she cleaned her room last week. What she didn’t find was the X-Box live subscription card her grandmother gave her for Christmas that she “put in a safe place” until her current one runs out, which happens to be this Thursday. So instead of having extra money, she actually needed to spend what she found and then some to replace something that she lost. She was not pleased with this turn of events and proceeded to mope all over Best Buy, sighing and dragging her feet and acting like the first person on the planet to have to make a decision about spending money.

By the time that we got home, we were both tired of her attitude and I didn’t feel well so I camped out on the couch and my husband started on all the laundry that had accumulated since we got back. When they got to the part that belonged to her, he helped with the process from washer to dryer, but gave it to her to put away while he finished our last load and talked to his mom. His plan was that when they were both done we could watch Dr. Strange which we had missed while he was gone.

Here’s where the real drama begins. Instead of taking the clothes and putting them away, she sat on the couch and wasted time flipping channels. When he came in to start the movie, she went and made a snack and then plopped herself down in the chair, ready to watch. After he established that she hadn’t actually done what he asked, he stopped the movie, took away her plate and told her to go put away her clothes. Cue the theatrics… “I just want some food… Why can’t I do it after I’ve eaten? Are you really going to keep me from eating when I’m starving?” Oh sweet, sweet child, you have no idea what you unleashed right there.

Mind you, it hadn’t even been 3 hours since lunch so starving was a HUGE exaggeration. What happened next was enough to have all three dogs trying to get on the love seat with me or at least as close to me as possible to ensure that they weren’t in the path of the carnage. The decibel level rose considerably in the house, possibly even more than when I  watch a Dallas Cowboys game because he broke out “the Commander Voice” and followed her back to her room.

Y’all… She proceeded to drag this out for OVER AN HOUR! To put away a single load of laundry. A FULL HOUR of stalling and muttering and whining and trying to get out of it, all the while bemoaning the fact that we wouldn’t let her eat… Yup, I know that’s gonna come up in therapy some day for sure. She even tried to get away with just stacking clothes in the bottom of her closet instead of hanging them. God love her, the kid has chutzpah. If she put even a fraction of that energy into doing what she was told (properly) she could have been done in less than 10 minutes and finished with a three course meal!

She did eventually get it done because no matter how tough she thinks she is, she’s still no match for her father when he’s set on something. After they took a few minutes to regroup in their separate corners, we did get to watch the movie (which was fabulous) and had a fairly decent rest of the evening. But it was really touch and go there for a bit.

I love her, but sweet Mother of Mercy, that child is so stubborn and lazy sometimes that I’m not sure she’s going to make it to high school. I know I had instances of this when I was growing up, so it gives me hope that eventually she’ll turn into a responsible contributing member of society. But between now and then, I think I better keep the wine subscription service going for all of our sakes.

Tell me I’m not alone…

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