About two months ago I was having one of these days. We had only been in our new house for a couple of weeks and there was moving clutter all over the house (just a side note: I HATE clutter. It is the quickest way to put me in a bad mood if that is what I wake up to.) There were some dirty dishes in the sink that I hadn't yet gotten to that day, and not one but both of my kids were over tired and cranky all day. Because of their moods and constant need for my attention I was unable to get anything done. After dinner was made and only partially eaten by the kids, I had had enough. Dax did the usual which was taking a few bites and then piece by piece threw the rest on the floor for me to pick up, and Corbin ate a few bites and then poked his belly and said "there's no more room. my tummy hurts." So I removed myself from the situation and stepped outside as not to terrify them when I exploded.
It was quiet outside on the back porch. The sun was dipping over the mountains on the other side of the house and all of the city lights were coming alive. Ahhh.... silence. Peace and quiet for about one whole minute.
Before I could really relax the sliding glass door swung open and out come two dinner covered, crying children. They begin climbing on me and screaming that they don't want to go to bed. How could they possibly sleep when there were so many toys left to play with?! I tried to reason with them. I put on my sympathetic mommy voice and told them that tomorrow was another day, and that they could play with whatever they didn't get to play with today. This didn't do what it was supposed to do, like the "perfect sitcom family" handbook said that it would. If it had, then they would have sweetly smiled and said "alright Mom, you're right. Goodnight. We will see you in the morning" and then march upstairs and retire to bed. But instead I got more complaining, exaggerated crying, and thrashing about as if they were being exercised of demons.
At that very moment I heard a faint sound off in the distance. It started off as barely a hum and the noise began to draw closer. Now I knew what this magical noise was but my son had no idea. And he couldn't have heard the noise over his own wails of self pity. Off in the distance was the sound of a plan hatching. As the ice cream truck drew closer I made a sound of fake fear gurgle up out of my throat. "Oh no! Do you hear that?!" I cried "do you know what that is?". Corbin ceased his convulsions. He looked at me like big foot might jump over the fence and snatch him up. We both stood there silence for a few moments as the sound increased. "What is it?" He shrieked.
I could barely keep the laughter from escaping my throat. I said quietly "Why that's the kid police! They don't have sirens like the grown up police cars. Kid police sirens sound like nursery rhymes. They drive around after dinner and listen for the sound of kids that are throwing fits and not listening to their parents." "What do they do to them?" He asked in a small voice. "Well, if the kids are not making good choices and throwing fits and refusing to go to bed, then the kid police take them to their police station and you have to stay there over night." "But I don't want to go with them!" He cried out. "Corbin, you can always make the right choice to listen to your parents that love you and only want the best for you. Are you ready for bed now?" Before I knew it the sliding door slammed shut and my son got ready for bed.
The rest of the night I pondered over whether I have completely damaged my child or not. i sort of giggled to myself when i realized that the ice cream truck conveniently drives by right after dinner each night, which just so happens to be when I am desperately trying to get them ready for bed. I also started wondering how much of every paycheck we should set aside for his future therapy bills.
Last week my husband took Corbin out to get ice cream from the I've cream truck. He isn't scared anymore.