In an act that all human rights groups ever have condemned as “barbaric” and “inhumane”, a woman today refused to carry her youngest grandchild, age 2, inside the house. When confronted by the victim of this grave injustice, the woman defend herself by claiming both her hands were busy carrying groceries. To add insult to injury the woman then suggested that the victim was “just tired” and “in need of nap”.
This act was just the latest miscarriage of justice carried against the young lady that includes such horrible things as only reading three bedtime stories, not allowing to jump on the sofa, and only one cookie after dinner.
The victim was not available for comment as she was last seen lying on the porch, crying and screaming, mere feets away from the front door.
A far, far greater injustice was done recently in a public shopping mall:
While taken by her father, along with her 8-year-old sister, to a shoe store, a 5 year old girl was seriously abused; for, -horrors!-… new shoes were to be bought only for the older sister.
An offer to buy the 5-year-old some new socks in pretty colors did not interest her; For she would not accept bribery, lest she become a conspirator in a felony of bribery, aimed at covering up this crime of child abuse.
Nor would she would remain silent, suffering her abuse like a battered woman. No, she would stand up for her dignity…and declare proudly - (and loudly!)- that she needed new shoes RIGHT NOW.
She looked at the nearest shelf, and grabbed the first pair of shoes at eye level, held them up high, and decreed proudly (and loudly) that these shoes were now JUST FOR HER : a pair of men’s work boots, size 13, that weighed more than her head.
And when told once again that no, we were not going to buy a pair of shoes, she decided to make one last offer… saying proudly - (and loudly) -:
“THEN CAN WE BUY JUST ONE SHOE?”
The clerk at the cash register smiled…
And I seriously considered buying the boots, so I could give her one now------ and save the other one to present to her 20 years from now, when I give the “father of the bride” speech.
As is well known, if a three year old picks up an object and gets more than two steps with it, it is theirs, has always been theirs, and will always be theirs. This principle is under attack in the case of MINE! MINE! MINE! vs Retail Game Store Clerk.
Toddlers everywhere state that they will continue to fight it out on this line until their face turns blue.
I saw a terrible injustice happening at the library last week. The poor wronged victim was only allowed to pick THREE books and then was forced to leave before story time. Even worse, all of the library staff and patrons did their best to ignore the wails of distress as she was pulled out by the hand by a much larger female.
Whenever I see such injustice, I feel an urge to say something along the lines of “That… is the sound of ultimate torment. The child in pink makes it now…”
I’m not going to put it in article form but here’s closure to the incident.
After lying on the porch for awhile feeling sorry for herself, granpa offered to carry her inside. This was not taken well. Apparently it was no longer about getting inside but a matter of principle. It was granma or nothing.
When granma was finally available even that was no longer acceptable. In a show of passive resistance Gandhi would approve, she went totally limp and refused to move. Luckily she doesn’t weigh that much. After a bit of a struggle to get her clothes off, she finally accepted her fate and allowed granma to carry her to her bed. In a final act of defiance, neither granpa nor uncle (me) were allowed to give night-night kisses.
After naptime she was a lot more agreeable. She continues vehemently denying the correlation between crankiness and lack of naptime though.
Headline suggestion: Naptime enforced, girl denies allegations of exhaustion
Well, just today, in a heinous crime that involved 3 generations and two states, a grave injustice was committed against an innocent 13 year old boy.
Said boy had just taken a shower at his grandmother’s apartment in New York City, when the perpetrator demanded that brush his hair. Given that this adolescent is possessed of a lovely mane of shoulder-length hair, the perpetrator felt entitled to make this demand. She made the spurious claim that based on previous experience, if he did not brush his hair within a reasonable amount of time after a shower, it would dry looking terrible.
The perpetrator then transported the boy across state lines into New Jersey.
Shortly thereafter, she instructed him to put on a nicer shirt, as they were about to meet the boy’s great-aunt for dinner. He did this without complaint, hoping to distract the ogre from noticing that he had never gotten around to brushing his hair. Unfortunately, the ploy failed, and the perpetrator noticed that his hair, indeed, looked terrible. The innocent victim tried to appease her by saying that he had run his fingers through it. She demanded that he brush his hair then and there. He insisted that running his fingers through it was all that was necessary, and that it looked “fine.”
After several go-rounds, she deployed her secret weapon, known as “the mom voice,” and he finally complied.
Then she discovered that he had left his warm sweatshirt at his grandmother’s.
The victim escaped the trauma relatively unscathed. The perpetrator needed to take a Tums.
Recently, a young lady(3) was left playing with her aunt (a teacher) upstairs.
The victim’s parents sat downstairs, reading and relaxing, and were surprised to hear an indignant cry from upstairs. To their increasing stupefaction, the conflict continued to escalate until they saw the victim heading downstairs to demand JUSTICE! whilst carrying a Mr. Potatohead doll.
The complaint was that the elder person wasn’t allowing the victim to place the pieces where the victim wanted.
But in an unexpected reversal, the mother explained that maybe the problem wasn’t as lopsided as it seemed to the victim and that maybe an agreement could be reached. Thus the rallying cry “AGREEMENT!” was borne upstairs.
After a while a triumphant cry resounded through the house: “Mommy! We reached an AGREEMENT!”