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From 9to5to9: Little Guy’s back-seat diplomacy

Submitted by on Friday, 3 October 2008 No Comment

Forget what I said last week about Little Guy serving as attorney general in Big Guy’s Manchurian presidency.

Little Guy’s destined for at least secretary of state. Or perhaps even a head of state in his own right, in an Anwar Sadat-sort of way.

Living in our house definitely has helped Little Guy refine inborn peace-making tendencies, partly out of self-preservation. Caught as he is at times between a stubborn mother and an intractably strong-willed brother, he’s learned to work things out.

Such as today, when he earned the Nobel Please Prize by settling the great drink debate.

Big Guy was in the mood to take hostages the second I told him, just after he’d gotten home from school, that we were going to have to take a trip to pick up some paperwork.

Can’t say I blame him. It was our second in as many days, and I really wasn’t in the mood either to pile two cranky kids in a car for a 40-minute round trip with a potentially long wait in an office in the middle. Especially since the jaunt would disrupt nap time, and Little Guy’s prone to go al-Qaeda on me when he misses his beauty rest.

I bribed Big Guy by suggesting he take the evil laptop with him, and he reluctantly agreed.

Fifteen minutes down the road, though, Big Guy remembered he hadn’t eaten and decided to have the crab and carp special for lunch.

“I’m thirsty. I need a drink. But there’s no where to get a drink near here, is there?” he blasted accusingly.

“Well, we’re going to park the same place we did yesterday,” I replied as calmly as I could for someone who felt like the proverbial ham sandwich before the grand jury . “Do you remember what was across the street?”

He turned that over in his head momentarily. “Hmmm … A McDonald’s?”

“Yes. And I bet they have drinks there.”

“Yes. But you’re going to say no, aren’t you?” he spat.

“You never know what might happen if you ask nicely.”

“Yes, I do. You’re going to say no,” he whine-pouted.

“Why don’t you try asking nicely?”

“You’re going to say no,” he replied, sticking out his lip.

“You don’t know that. Why don’t you try asking nicely?”

“You’re going to say no.”

And round and round the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel for three more rounds. Admittedly my insistence seemed stubborn, but Big Guy’s had a bad habit of barking lately.

Finally Little Guy chimed in.

“Mommy, can we get a drink at McDonald’s?”

“Yes, we can.”

Big Guy buried his face in his hands and laughed.

Copyright 2008 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

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