My second son, nine year old Andrew, has been going through some extremely dramatic, over-the-top fit-pitching lately. I don’t know if this is related to his Asperger Syndrome, growing pains, missing his Daddy, or just general I’m-out-to-send-mom-over-the-edge-ness…but it’s getting old fast.
We still have our sense of humor though.
A few days ago he was having to write sentences related to some infraction. He was overwrought at this horrible, horrible abuse and wept, wailed and howled at the table while he dragged the pen across the page. He came out with this..
“I wish I were DEEEAAAAD!!!! I wish I were DEAD right now!!!!!!”
Needless to say, I was not impressed.
“Andrew… dead people don’t get lunch. (it was almost lunchtime) Dead people don’t watch movies or play cds. And dead people do NOT get Christmas presents. So…do you REALLY wanna be dead right now?”
“Well… Not before Christmas!”
*insert rimshot here*