PROBLEM SOLVER

It used to be, that if our boy wanted something that we didn’t either feel like doing or didn’t want him to have, it was pretty easy to sway him off the idea through misdirection…look, a unicorn!

But now that he’s approaching the 23 month old mark, a certain aspect of his behaviour is coming to the fore…

He’s a Problem Solver!

A don’t tell me it can’t be done, show me how it CAN be done, kinda guy. He doesn’t focus on the problem, he looks for a solution and man, he has some serious powers of persuasion.

This behaviour first manifested a week ago when Indy wanted to play with Melmo (Daddy’s puppet creation and fuzzy arch nemesis. See my post Melmo! for details), but instead of simply accepting the standard misdirection, “No, no. Melmo’s asleep now. Oh look, an oxy-torch and a box of matches!” He now purposefully takes your hand, looks into your eyes and nods assuredly and supportively with some gentle but firm ‘yeps’, to sweeten the deal. Like you’ve just been mind-f#*d by a mini Derren Brown.

Before you know it, you’re elbow-deep in felt’n’fuzz for the millionth time today with no recollection of how you got there.

Also, the other day we were stuck inside due to the rain and once it subsided he wanted to go out. “We can’t go out bud, it’s too wet. Plus, Daddy hasn’t got any shoes on, see.” Seeing him scuttle off quietly into the next room, assured me that he’d been adequately misdirected again and Daddy was temporarily off the hook. What I didn’t expect, was him to reappear next to me…with my shoes in hand!

Problem solved.

And just this morning, I was sleeping in bed when I feel a tap-tap-tap on my shoulder and rolled over to see a little cherub face in cowboy pyjamas and a Swans beanie beaming at me, (Mumma wears the strangest things to bed, sometimes) 😉

You got me. Yes, it was Indy. Mumma called out from the other room, “No, no. Dadda’s asleep!” So, when he scuttled off, I once again presumed I was in the clear until he re-emerged beside my bedside…holding my Angry Birds pyjama pants for me to get dressed into. (And I joked about Mumma wearing strange things to bed. Only, mine are real!).

Another problem solved.

So misdirection is fine unto a point. That point being the moment Mumma and Dadda start to take on a slightly transparent appearance and our boy begins to see straight through us. Now I feel awkward like the time Lois Lane asked Superman what colour her underwear was, and he used his X-ray vision to determine they were pink.

And like Lois, I need a lead-lined flowerbox planter to quickly jump behind to mask my insecurity. Our boy is getting wise and until now, I always presumed I was the superhero in this movie, but it’s quickly apparent that I’m just the comic relief.

So, I drop to my knees, shake my fist at the sky and yell, “Damn you, Salazar!”…before realising I just kneeled in dog poo. (But that’s the job of the comic relief, after all) 😉

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