Fellow Queens,

 

Remember that old Mazola commercial where the beautiful native american woman says “You call it corn, we call it maise?”  Well, Some call this cruel, I call it parenting.

 

This morning when I staggered downstairs to get coffee I saw that 7 1/2 year old Prince Christopher was playing on the Wii. I reminded him of my rule stating that he had to eat breakfast and be dressed for the day before he turned on the TV. I don’t count polar bear pajama bottoms as dressed. 

 

I went on to ask him if he had had breakfast. He repeatedly stated that he had. As I proceeded to make coffee (also known as Nectar of the Gods) clues started to fall into place. The toaster wasn’t left out on the counter. The syrup was in the cabinet where it belongs. The garbage bag did not have a sticky paper plate hanging on the outside of it.

 

I had been lied to. 

 

The situation required swift and serious action. For the first time I was now justified in pulling a whopper out of my bag of parenting tricks. And it wouldn’t be pretty.

 

First I lulled him into a sense of normalcy. I read my paper, had my coffee and went to the gym. At lunchtime I said we would go to McDonalds. Joy ensues. “I thought you didn’t like McDonalds Mommy.” “Mommy hates it, I can assure you I won’t eat there.” I haven’t dined there for a decade, though if I did want a colon cleanse I would snarf a quarter pounder.

 

We load up and head to Micky Dees with the promise of dining inside and playing on the playground. I pull into the parking lot, drive around the building and then head home. He is stunned into silence. At the stop light I spin around and simply state, “You lied to me about breakfast. I lied to you about lunch.” 

 

I truly expected a hysterical fit. My eardrums were grateful as Prince Christopher was silent most of the way home. About a block from the house he asked, “When does school start?” Hilarious.

 

When we got home I asked him how he felt when I lied to him. “Bad.” “Did you feel bad when you lied to me?” A slight nod of the head and then silence.

 

Mr. Man was put into the corner. Here is his prison diary.

 

1:30 - Sentence begins

1:47 - A lunch of potato chips, yogurt, granola bar and glass of juice is served (Warden  puts juice in cup with handle in case prisoner tries to drag it across the wood blinds shouting for Amnesty International. 

1:53 - Prisoner is granted trip to bathroom. On the way back he gives me a hug and a kiss. After glancing at my computer to see what I was working on he sweetly asks “Did you think of all that Queen stuff all by yourself?” “Yes” came my curt reply.

2:01 - Whimpering starts.

2:02 - Prisoner assumes the fetal position.

2:07 - Prisoner asks, “When can I get up?” “Every time you ask me, you add time to your sentence,” Warden replies.

2:12 - “I want a blanket. I’m cold.” Prisoner’s request granted.

2:34 - Older prince says, “He’s starting to break.”

2:37 - Earnest crying begins. Wails of “When can I get up?” from the corner begin and end quickly.

3:05 -  Snack of peanut butter crackers and chocolate milk is served. Warden prays inmate will fall asleep.

3:12 - Another bathroom break granted.

3:29 - Punching pillows begins.

3:33 - Prisoner tries to make a break for it. After being given the chance to return to his cell he chooses to disregard that option. Warden physically puts prisoner back in corner. He stays.

3:37 - “Hey Mommy, where’s Daddy?”

4:11 - Sentence complete.

 

The standoff ended when the detainee requested a meeting. After asking how long he had to stay in the corner I told him that that was totally up to him and a clue might be to think about why he was in this predicament. He said that he had ‘accidentally’ lied to me. Dear God. After righting that wrong he fully understood what the lesson had been all about.

 

All I wanted was for him to admit on his own that he lied, that he was sorry and had learned his lesson.  Cop to it without any prompting from me. Confess that he lied without me saying “Now what did you do? Why were you punished?” in a sing song voice. I caved. I did prompt him, but not in a sing song voice. Had I just undid the lesson of the last 2 1/2 hours?

 

At one point he turned it on me and said, “Does this make you proud Mom?”

 

That one hurt, to my core. 

 

I would be proud if I knew for sure that I did the right thing. But I don’t know.

 

What do you think?

 

Reign On,

Queen Linda