Cutting the Cord

I know a lot of lore has gone into this memory, but it is one I like to relay often. The times (was it only once?) that mom cut the power cord from the tv, just to reinforce her "no television" rule.

Yesterday as X was glued to the tube, (I guess we call it a flat now?) I mentioned the cord cutting scenario. During one of my mommy moments with a rambunctious 3 year old who has so much energy he should be outside all the time, but has had a low grade fever for 4 days and kind of needs the rest, I thought of cutting the cord. It would be so great, definitive, it would so drive my husband to divorce (his tv is his first baby).

In an attempt to be a fun! mommy I sat on the bean bag in X's room today and played Star Wars, had Kell watching his every move and sipped my tea. I made up silly songs about the boys to Farmer in the Dell. When X wanted me to keep going I requested he take over, and make up something silly. Of course at that suggestion he clammed up and light sabered me a couple of times with his flashlights. Then for the 287th time he tried to open mouth kiss his brother on the lips, to which I freaked out for the 287th time, reminding him he is sick and please to move all kissing (with a closed mouth PLEASE) to the head and cheeks. And maybe I didn't say it quite that nicely.

To which HE responded,

to the tune of "Farmer in the Dell"

"Mommy's freaking out

mommy's freaking out

HI-HO the dairy-o

mommy's freaking out....."

Touche, young Jedi, touche.