Shut Up, Or You'll Eat it !

My parenting skills probably leave a lot to be desired, but they work for me, and no one has called Children's Aid on me yet, so I can't be doing too badly. My children know that when I issue a threat - or consequence as I like to term it - I will carry through. Head first into a snow pile, tied to a chair until homework is finished or completely empty the playroom of toys, if I've threatened it, I've done it. 

My husband on the other hand is hopeless. On one spectacular occasion when the children were at their worst, Rob burst out "If you don't stop right now I'm going to ...." There was a long pause followed by "... I don't know what I'm going to do, but I will do something". It was at that very point, he totally lost whatever leverage he would ever hope to have with our children. They are like Hyenas, they can smell fear, and they knew they had him. It is a rare occasion that Rob is able to utter a threat without one of the kids harking back to "that moment" and start laughing.     

My children never, ever run out of topics to argue about, yesterday it was bird guts. Yes you read that correctly. One of our cats had left yet another offering on our front step. He must have got hungry at some point, because all that remained were a few entrails and an indiscriminate feather, which is the only reason I knew it had once been a bird.  

My children are fascinated with this pile of gore and begin to speculate, "That's its brain" ventured Grady, "No" argued Sid "It is a stomach". Lindsay offers her opinion as a Grade 11 student who has passed one course in Biology, "Any idiot can see that's the heart", and so the fight began.  I shouldn't be surprised that my children are gathered on the front step loudly arguing about bird parts, but I am. The neighbours across the road are never going to be able to sell their house, all the time my children live here. 

The argument escalates and starts to turn nasty. These are the moments I live for.  "The next child who argues about the bird organs.." I bellow out the door, "Will be made to eat it". All conversation ceases immediately, and nervous glances are exchanged. No matter how diabolical and highly implausible the threat may be, not even Grady wants to take the chance that I will carry through, and that dear readers is how it is done.