*Disclaimer: This story DID NOT really happen. All characters are fictional.. Everyone knows my 10-year-old daughter would NEVER act like this in real life.
I've never seen anything like it.
Here we were, my mom and I and one of my daughter's friends, sitting at the dining table, enjoying some nice boiled Louisiana crabs on a Friday afternoon. My favorite. Mom's treat. Even better!
We had no idea what was coming. But come it did.
It was a flashmob. A crying, screaming, pouting, huffing, puffing, foot-stomping, door-slamming, You-Don't-Care-About-Me flashmob. Of one, ONE, 10-year old girl, obviously in the throes of a hormonal melt-down. Or something.
Forget the Terrrible Twos. This is the Terrorizing Tweens. Lord help me.
I guess I should have seen it coming. We know she grew up fast. A lot faster than most of her peers. She may be 10 but she looks 12. She's already nearly as tall as me. She's already wearing my shoes and trying to steal my clothes. And she does have a tendency to be a drama queen at times (can you say melodramatic?)
But this ... ?
I still don't know what happened. Or why...
All I know is, one minute I was helping my daughter's friend peel a crab and find the good stuff, and the next my daughter was throwing herself on the sofa and screaming at me. Something about being too nice to her friend and not nice enough to her.
But she doesn't even like crabs!
OK. Full disclosure? I did kind of egg her on a bit. After she stomped across the hardwood floor, rattling the china in the cabinet and making the dogs run for cover, she stormed into the bedroom. I yelled after her.
"Hey! Come back! You didn't slam the door! Everybody knows you have to slam the door. It works soooo much better when you slam the door. Do you want a do-over?"
"NOOOOOOOO!" she screamed back.
A few minutes later she stomped back into the room, rattling the china again.
"Are you enjoying your dinner with your new daughter?" she screamed at me.
Mom and I exchanged a wide-eyed stare. Then burst into laughter.
"Been there, done that," she said to me, cracking a claw for emphasis. "I remember those days. Oh boy are you in for it!"
"Oh really," I said. "I wasn't that bad. Was I?"
"Oh," she replied, rolling her eyes heavenward. "You were terrible! You cried all the time. You were so emotional. Don't you remember?"
I had to admit, I did. And I did try to run away from home a few times, but couldn't figure out how to take all my clothes with me. And I wasn't allowed to go past the paint store a few houses down. Or cross the street.
"I remember," I said. "Sorry Mom. I love you."
"Well," she said. "Your sister was worse."
Lord help me.
Linking up with Erica and friends at LoveLinks. Expand your bloggerizons.
I've never seen anything like it.
Here we were, my mom and I and one of my daughter's friends, sitting at the dining table, enjoying some nice boiled Louisiana crabs on a Friday afternoon. My favorite. Mom's treat. Even better!
We had no idea what was coming. But come it did.
It was a flashmob. A crying, screaming, pouting, huffing, puffing, foot-stomping, door-slamming, You-Don't-Care-About-Me flashmob. Of one, ONE, 10-year old girl, obviously in the throes of a hormonal melt-down. Or something.
Forget the Terrrible Twos. This is the Terrorizing Tweens. Lord help me.
I guess I should have seen it coming. We know she grew up fast. A lot faster than most of her peers. She may be 10 but she looks 12. She's already nearly as tall as me. She's already wearing my shoes and trying to steal my clothes. And she does have a tendency to be a drama queen at times (can you say melodramatic?)
But this ... ?
I still don't know what happened. Or why...
All I know is, one minute I was helping my daughter's friend peel a crab and find the good stuff, and the next my daughter was throwing herself on the sofa and screaming at me. Something about being too nice to her friend and not nice enough to her.
But she doesn't even like crabs!
OK. Full disclosure? I did kind of egg her on a bit. After she stomped across the hardwood floor, rattling the china in the cabinet and making the dogs run for cover, she stormed into the bedroom. I yelled after her.
"Hey! Come back! You didn't slam the door! Everybody knows you have to slam the door. It works soooo much better when you slam the door. Do you want a do-over?"
"NOOOOOOOO!" she screamed back.
A few minutes later she stomped back into the room, rattling the china again.
"Are you enjoying your dinner with your new daughter?" she screamed at me.
Mom and I exchanged a wide-eyed stare. Then burst into laughter.
"Been there, done that," she said to me, cracking a claw for emphasis. "I remember those days. Oh boy are you in for it!"
"Oh really," I said. "I wasn't that bad. Was I?"
"Oh," she replied, rolling her eyes heavenward. "You were terrible! You cried all the time. You were so emotional. Don't you remember?"
I had to admit, I did. And I did try to run away from home a few times, but couldn't figure out how to take all my clothes with me. And I wasn't allowed to go past the paint store a few houses down. Or cross the street.
"I remember," I said. "Sorry Mom. I love you."
"Well," she said. "Your sister was worse."
Lord help me.
Linking up with Erica and friends at LoveLinks. Expand your bloggerizons.
"do you want a do over?'
ReplyDeleteLOVE it. :D
Histrionics are the best part of growing up girl. I thought you knew.
ReplyDeleteShe doesn't even HAVE a door on her bedroom. Guess we'll have to put one just so she can slam it.
ReplyDeleteErica ... You never forget your first time...
This is a funny post! Offering a do-over = classic!!!
ReplyDeleteI had one super ridiculous meltdown tantrum in an Olive Garden of all places. I was probably about 10. 23 years later I'm still embarrassed by that memory. My poor parents.
Oh no...my daughter is only five years old but sometimes I wonder where she got her attitude. Surely not me? And then I get really terrified of what's to come in the future!
Mandi
Smile and Mama With Me
Oh have I been there.-yesterday. I loved this. "Come back! You didn't slam the door.." Hee Hee, you are doing a great job!
ReplyDeleteI want to laugh, but I know this is coming for me too. My toddler is a serious drama queen diva. She already throws her body on the sofas and wails as if she's been a wronged teenager! I must learn from you!
ReplyDeletegood attitude. I try that with my girls..but they are only 5 and 3 and just don't get sarcasm yet ;)
ReplyDeleteFiling away for the tween years.
visiting from lovelinks
Oh, the drama!! My girls aren't quite that old yet, but my oldest didn't get the terrible twos. She got the terrible threes. And her sister who is a year-and-a-half younger got the terrible 18-months at the same time. AWESOME.
ReplyDeleteMy girls are 7 months old and I am so afraid of this!! When I told my mom we were having girls she said "oh well you might as well just have them move in with me when they're 12. No one will like them then." Oh lord!!
ReplyDeletevisiting from lovelinks #20