"Austin just Flipped. You. Off. As he was walking past the doorway!"
"I didn't think she saw it!" (stutters the child with his face looking more scared by the second
"I SAW IT!" Roars Butch who looks at me to see if the fuse on the top of my head has exploded yet. Waiting ..... waiting....
I grab the leash and head down the stairs....through clenched teeth...."You. Deal. With. It."
When I hit the ground I call his dad, who, in only a way HE can do - responds with "haha. Ya. I did that to my mom. *snicker snicker*" (Once again affirming my choices for child rearing..)
Fast forward to yesterday (the morning AFTER the incident).
Austin is grounded for the weekend. (They are headed to their dad's for one last long visit before school starts. Supposed to be Monday thru Friday. Monday
is scheduled for their annual trip to the State Fair with dad/step-mom. I. NEED. THIS. VACATION. Butch is trying to kill this vaca as punishment. It sure feels like I'd be the one most punished by it.).
No tv, books, games, toys, friends. He is grounded to their bed room. It has two beds in it, a lamp and a fan. That's it. No pictures, books, toys, tv. Nothing. (They have a separate toy room that has all that stuff in it.) His brother is naturally in the toy room with a friend that's over to play.
On top of that he's getting to Pooper Scoop for punishment. I'm ashamed to admit that at 11 years old this is a New punishment for him. We've given him a shovel, a bucket, gloves, a used dust pan, and stick for helping him. In order to go out the door he insisted on showering, putting on his deodarant and body spray, putting on jeans and a nice long sleeved shirt, his hat and sun glasses, and his fav man-bracelet Aunt Darla made for him. Because his gfriend might see him. He barely made it to one pile and Attitude is flying left and right. Butch, of course is having to stand and watch. Austin is yelling and crying and whining and throwing a Full Fledged Tantrum the whole time. Every excuse in the book from "Xav's your favorite!" to "Why don't you make tenants clean up after their own dogs!" to "I'm hungry". The shovel is getting slammed around. The bucket has got smacked over at least once. Apparently shoveling poo is the Hardest. Thing. Ever. Who knew? I went inside and googled Military School... but he got lucky because the nearest one is in another state and $3000 a month. Bummer. After he got to go inside for lunch he got to spent the rest of his day in his room with nothing to do but sit on his bed. Ironically enough his room doesn't even have a door on it (because his brother has nightmares if their door gets shut), so if he was smart and just laid down and shut up he could hear the tv we're watching. He is allowed to come out for potty and meals. And in the evening he even got a break to come help do the dishes.
Hopefully he can pull his head out the next two days, because I Really Need this vacation from them next week.