But, lately, I'm starting to see signs that Molly might make her way in this world by becoming a hostage negotiator. Or, a UN ambassador. Or, a corporate lawyer. Pretty much anything that involves the act of negotiation, actually.
|My little future hostage-negotiator?|
I know you're wondering why I would think my darling, sweet daughter would be venturing into this life. Well, all you need to do is sit with us at our dinner table on any given night. You do that and you will see her sharpening those negotiating skills to a razor-like point. You will understand what I'm talking about.
Take the other night. We are trying to be healthy, so we serve chicken, vegetables and some bread. (Yes, I do realize that sounds like a dinner out of the 50s, but give me a break, I'm still new to this whole making dinner thing.) So, what on the plate does Molly want? Only the bread, of course.
And with that back-story, let the drama unfold:
Molly: Can I have some more bread?
Me: How do you ask?
Molly: May I have some more bread, please?
Me: You need to eat some of your chicken and green beans.
Molly: How many?
Cory: Just eat until I say that's enough.
Molly: How about 1 piece of chicken and 2 green beans?
Me: You need to eat more than that.
Molly: How about 2 pieces of chicken and 1 green bean?
Cory: Just start eating, and I'll tell you when you can have more bread.
Charlotte: Bupplemeyun! Bupplemeyun! Bupplemeyun! (Translation for those not fluent in Charlotte-ese: Buckle me in, which actually means unbuckle me. It's a tricky language, that one.)
Molly: I'm not hungry, my stomach hurts.
Me: So, you don't want any more bread?
Molly: I want bread!
Cory: Then, you need to eat some chicken and green beans.
Molly: But, my stomach hurts!
Me: If you're stomach hurts, you can stop eating, but you can't have more bread.
Molly: Ok. How about 1 chicken and 3 green beans?
Cory: You need 4 pieces of chicken and 10 green beans.
Molly: How about 2 chicken and 4 green beans?
Charlotte: Baby! Baby! (As she comes in the kitchen carrying a baby doll from Molly's room.)
Molly: That's my baby!
Me: You're eating. She can play with it.
Molly: Ok. How about 3 chicken and 5 green beans?
Me: Molly, if you had just started eating when we first started talking about this, you would already be done and eating your bread by now.
Cory: 5 pieces of chicken and 10 green beans.
Molly: 3 pieces of chicken and 5 green beans?
Charlotte: Wawa? Wawa? (Translation: Water. And, yes, I know she repeats everything multiple times. It's part of her charm. Or her whine. You pick.)
Molly: Well, how about 1 piece of chicken and 2 green beans.
Cory: No, 3 chicken and 10 green beans.
Molly: Argh. Ok.
Molly finally relents. 10 minutes later she is finished eating the requisite chicken and green beans. The process is exhausting. I feel like going straight to bed after dinner. Either that, or pouring a giant glass of wine.
If you were a hostage-taker, wouldn't you have given up your hostages by the time Molly was finished badgering you about it? I know I would. Anyway, now you can see why I know Molly's future is secure in any career that involves tough negotiating. She's a natural. At 4! Or, I guess if she really wants to, she can become that artist that she keeps talking about.
Either way, if we ever go on a trip to Mexico, I am sending her out to barter for me. We are going to get some hella good deals. Anyone want a sombrero?