Icecream

Day 1
To child A: Here's some money, go and buy yourself an icecream. (Goes and buys self an icecream)

Day 2
Child B: She got an icecream yesterday, so I want an icecream too. (Holds out hand for the money, goes off to buy self an icecream).

*** ***

Child B comes home with a box of 6 icecreams.

Parent decides that's good value, however, the intention was for the child to have ONE icecream. As a compromise, she will allow him to have 3 of the icecreams, and everyone else in the family may have one of the icecreams each.

Boy has screaming fit about them being his icecreams and his money. Boy cannot understand the concept of "Mum was only offering one icecream, regardless of the cost of the icecream and the fact that your sister spent that much and only got one for her money".

Golden family times.

The Seven-Legged Spider

If you, like me, enjoy a good clever chain email filled with wit, you'll have heard the story of the seven-legged spider. (Yes, yes, I recognise the paradox in that sentence: deal with it.)

If you haven't heard the story, read this page and then come back here.

I've been spending many an hour of late perusing the other articles on that site. I could wax lyrical on the sheer genius that is David Thorne. I could waste valuable time patting the heads of the righteously indignant, reassuring them that he only has an audience because people like them throw tantrums.* But I won't, because those people prefer tantrums to paying attention to wisdom, and that's eleventy bajillion minutes of my life that I'll never get back.

So in leiu of such a panacea, I have redeemed myself by inviting more than a thousand people to the birthday party of a complete stranger (a friend of a friend) who publically listed her birthday drinks on Facebook.




* I SO wanted to write "tanties" there, because thowing a tanty is infinitely more tough than throwing a tantrum, but for those who didn't understand what a tanty is, the graceful flow of my repartee would have been irrevocably lost.