We (read as me and me alone – dragging my silent partner & co-parent my
darling hubby along) are prepping pogo for his school interview (which feels more like MY exam than that of anyone else’s).
Pogo has his quirks, well he is two (and a half) and he is supposed to. (read Pogo’s prepping quirks here). Prepping him is a task by itself but yesterday, all my dreams of guiding Pogo towards World Presidency twenty years later went straight to the drain. (or further below straight to hell..!)
Taking a break from the strenuous prepping sessions, Gk, Pogo and I went to visit a relative. There, we saw a few toys scattered around and pogo began playing with those. I was in the kitchen helping my aunt with the evening snacks.
Pogo was playing with a toy; loudly and clearly my
adorable, darling husband says “Oh pogo, the lion says Roar” Pogo happy with his father’s (sudden, once-in-a-while) involvement, immediately caught on to the name and kept repeating “Lion – Roar… Lion-Roar”
Unaware, I walk into the room with the snack tray only to be aghast! Pogo was playing with a cheetah toy.. merrily singing “Lion-Roar.. Lion- Roar” (My week long animal identification training down the drain… controlling my now exploding anger,) I explain that it is a cheetah toy to both my lovable munchkin and
“So what?” exclaims GK, “they are all animals after all” while pogo continues to merrily (and now quiet irritably) chant “Lion – roar… lion- roar” with a cheetah toy.
Parenting 101: Try and try until someone else destroys it for you and then try again..!