However, that explanation was needed as a lead in for the horrible and painful evening I had last night.
My son's room looks like a Toys-R-Us. He has 30 Skylanders, all of the Imaginext Batman sets, Ninja sets and Dragon Castle sets, Superhero Squad toys, Captain America, Thor, Ironman, Spiderman, ever Mario character you can think of, Sonic the Hedgehog's whole squad, etc...etc...etc. His room is every boy child's dream and a good portion of grown men's too. Mommy's OCD keeps the room clean and organized, so it wasn't disarray that led to last night's events.
No, it was simply, my son is spoiled and has taken on a sense of entitlement that was so sad and also infuriating for me to witness. I am more mad at myself for allowing him to become so ungrateful then I am at him for acting that way, but regardless, it takes two to tango and dance we did.
It was dinner time. A simple enough task, and he decided that he didn't like the dinner that my step father took two hours to make for us all. He was starting to throw a fit so I swooped in and put him in bed. Normally, that action rectifies his behavior because heaven forbid he can't play with his immense amount of toys, but last night, the rules changed and he decided that he was going to get sassy with me. I tolerate a lot, but sassy mouth is a thin line to cross with me and leads to slapped mouth on his part. Bring on the water works... my four year old boy was crying like a little girl whose favorite doll was just destroyed. Annoyed does not even begin to describe my feelings. I was OUTRAGED that my son would A.) Speak to me in such a disrespectful manner and B.) Think that crying and screaming like a Banshee would make me change my mind. I then advised him through gritted teeth that if he did not stop his hollering, I would most certainly take away his toys. His response, and I quote, "Do it. I don't want my toys. They're old."
Danger! Mother has reached Nuclear Reactive Level! All personnel are advised to stand back!
Not needing to be told twice, I went and got trash bags and started reenacting a tornado and toys went a-flying into those trash bags. My mother heard the racket and while she is normally the voice of reason, she could not make either of us calm down, so she decided to help me bag up toys since my ungrateful child was still insisting he did not want his toys.
This is where the head injury comes into play.
She is bagging up his coloring books and dinosaurs from atop his TV cabinet and I am bending down next to the TV cabinet trying to unplug the TV. On top of his TV cabinet is also a military helmet from my Dad that was his when he was in the Marine Corps. It weighs about 10lbs and is made from some pretty heavy metal. While she is clearing books, the helmet becomes dislodged from its position on the TV cabinet and decides to make a jump for it and lands on my head.
Tears instantly form in my eyes as the pain sets in. My son then starts crying AGAIN. My mom asks him why on earth he is crying to which he says, "Because my mommy got hurt!" Really?? My head injury brings you to tears, but the heartbreak your horrible attitude caused me means nothing???
My mom helps me to bed and finishes bagging all of his toys. She placed all of the big black trash bags in his closet and leaves him in his empty room. He is now, finally, silent.
This morning, he wakes me up at 6am and asks me when he can earn his privileges back for his Skylanders.
I don't even open my eyes.
He then proceeds to tap my arm repeatedly and then asks when can he have his Batman toys back.
This time, I open my eyes and just stare at him incredulously.
I tell him, "You can start earning your toys back when mommy has learned her lesson and when you start learning to be grateful and appreciative."
His response..."OK. So, can I have my toys back now?"
Damn, my head hurts....
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