T1 was nattering in the car that he and his friends were talking about who’s the boss in their respective households. Don’t you love finding out what the boys talk about in school at this age?
Based on his observation he had come to the conclusion that I was the top dog in our household hierarchy although in most of his friends’ homes, the daddies are usually the boss. I asked him why he thought so.
“Because every time I ask Dila if I could have something or do something, he told me I have to ask you” T1 have always called Hubs Dila instead of Daddy. We don’t know why, and he has always insisted on calling me Mima despite being corrected many times since he was a baby.
Well, to be honest, you don’t see me going around splurging big bucks on Chanel handbags and Manolos on the sub credit card. If I was really the Big Kahuna, I wouldn’t even worry about Hubs propelling through the roof when he sees the bill. Did Gru ever have to consult the minion about spending money to steal the moon? Nope, I didn’t think so.
“Well, that’s because Dila wants to create a perception that Mima is the boss so that he doesn’t have to deal with having to say No to you and the tantrums that comes from it.” Yes, I’m on to Hubs’ nefarious scheme of casting me as the bad cop. You see, the smart men always let the wife think that she’s the boss, but the even smarter Machiavelli wife knows to let the man think that she believes she’s the boss. See how complex the household politics can get?
T2, never one to be left out, started screeching about his toy car and that the wheels were loose and that I fix it pronto, right there and then. I explained that the wheels are meant to be loose so that the cars can move but he went on shrieking about the wheels coming down and I told him to please be quiet I can’t fix it while I’m driving. When that little tyke wants something he wants it now.
“Eeeeeeahk, I won’t be quiet! And you’re not the boss anymore!” Now, I’ve dealt with a lot of insolence from both the boys before, but even this is a first for me.
“Oh yea? Who’s the boss then?”
“Me! I’m the new boss” He reached for T1’s tennis racquet and started thrashing it about.
“Well, if you don’t stop screeching I’m gonna show you who’s boss”
“No! If YOU don’t stop screeching I’M going to show YOU who’s boss!” Even though T1 went through the annoying phase of repeating everything we say, only T2 took it so far as to repeat our threats back to us. T1 knew instinctively when to stop, but T2 is always pushing the envelope. How do you deal with such insolence?!
Later that night, T2 was screeching that I should pour him a glass of water. His fingers were not yet strong enough to push open the bottle stopper.
“So, who’s the boss now?” I asked him, pressing the point whilst opening the bottle and pouring him some water.
“You” came the reply.
“Do you know what a boss is?” I asked out of curiosity.
“Ya…It’s someone who gets other people to do things when there are things to be done.”
Wait a minute.
That little Machiavellian. And I thought I’d won the war.
Postscript:
T2: “Daddy, can I play with your iPhone?”
Hubs: “What does Mummy say about it?”
T2: “For your information, it’s your phone. Why do you need her permission?”
I think I’m going to have to nip insubordination in the bud.
Happy parenting! *Sigh*
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