Ben is my little tricky child. Sometimes it is the wilful, sometimes it is the wild, sometimes it is the escape-artist, sometimes it is the tricky. We ran into a friend this weekend and she asked how Ben had settled into school this term. ‘Have they tamed him yet?’ she asked and I laughed because that one sentence summed up pretty much everything about him.
I love this little boy more than anything but I’m sure some of you will recognise him:
This morning he complained that his shoes were hurting. I checked them but they were fine. Then he said it was his socks. They seemed fine too although those pesky seams across the toe are always a potential crisis. So then he said it was his toenails. I cut them, making sure not to leave any sharp edges, thereby sidestepping another potential crisis.
We put on new socks and a different pair of shoes but they were still hurting his feet.
‘They’re giving me a headache Mummy,’ he wailed.
I couldn’t not hug him when I saw his crumpled little face.
‘You know I can’t eat this pizza,’ he said accusingly at lunch. ‘It makes me cough.’
He paused to ready himself for a cough.
‘And that gives me a headache Mummy,’ he wailed.
There was even a crocodile tear.
You have to hug a boy that has crocodile tears.
‘I can’t play with these cars anymore Mummy.’
He threw one half-heartedly at the car mat. (You know what’s coming, right?)
‘It’s giving me a headache, Mummy,’ he wailed.
There was a pause while he tried to look up at his own forehead, suddenly distracted from this latest injustice.
‘What is a headache, Mummy?’
I had to turn away so he didn’t see me laugh because, after all that complaining about headaches? I thought of the throbbing starting over my left eye after a long day stuck inside with The Complainer and I thought, yes I know exactly what is a headache.
I could say I love him despite his foibles, but actually I love him more because of his foibles.
And it’s a good thing that he’s so adorable too:
What do your children do that makes you love them even more?