Small children do not understand a sardonic sense of humor.
My daughter has been asking (ie. relentlessly begging) for a dog on a weekly basis. I don't know where this came from. No one in our family has a dog, except my dad. The relationship between Joey Dog and Emilia could hardly be called friendly. Adversarial, perhaps. Competitive, maybe. Contentious, yes. There is usually food involved. The fact that my daughter won't admit to being lower on the hierarchy has not aided their relationship.
Anyway, the nagging had been wearing on me. In part, because I would love to have a dog, too. I had two when I was her age. But with three cats, no. Not going to happen. I am not about to add a puppy to a home that already has three people, one a preschooler, another child on the way, and three damn cats. (I know you're saying, three? THREE cats? What are you crazy?! Um, yes. Apparently. But we'll leave that story for another day.)
So one day, in the midst of another pleading-for-a-dog-because-otherwise-I-might-and-most-likely-will-die-if-I-don't-get-one-immediately session I was feeling a little worn. And I answered the way I sometimes would to an adult. "Frankly, Emilia, at least one cat was going to have to die for that to happen. Possibly two. Preferrably three."
"Die?"
"Yes. Die. The cats. I'm sorry. That's just the way it is. As long as there are cats, no dogs in our house."
Now, Em doesn't understand death. She's not even three. I didn't really think this had any impact on her. She seemed to consider it for a moment and then stopped asking for a dog altogether. Child stopped pestering! There is quiet! I won! Kind of.
Flash forward to this morning. There were some adorable puppies on the Today Show. The rolly-polly, falling all over each other, fluffy kind. You're awwing in your chair, aren't you? So, being the good mother that sometimes convince myself I am, I called to Em, knowing she'd like them, "Emilia there are puppies on TV! Come see the puppies!"
Predictably, I heard feet running towards me and then Em gaspsed, in a VERY EXCITED tone, "Did the cats DIE!?"
I don't know what's worse. The emotional damage I've done to my child...or the look of disappointment on her face when she realized there were at least two alive cats right in front of her.
Um. Oops.
My gift to you- laughter. At me. I'm all about sacrifice.
HAPPY HANUKKAH!
