I Wanted a Kitty-Cat!

End of school year BBQ was this past Friday – it’s pretty much the social event of the year for the nine and under crowd. Grace and Edie quiver with excitement over this annual blow out, which in reality is just a dunk tank, a hotdog/hamburger stand, a face painting area and a dessert table. Oh, and approx 200kids (as if they stand still long enough to be counted) running around like banshees who have not tasted freedom in a hundred years. This year though there was an added attraction – a balloon shape shifting dude (or God in the eyes of Edie). Edie clamped her big ole blue eyes on this guy from the get go and decided that she was to be recipient of a balloon shape shifted into a.....kitty cat.

A little back ground story – I had a pep talk with the girls prior to the BBQ as I knew I would have to extrapolate them from the masses a little earlier than usual as we had another engagement to attend. They both nodded solemnly, convincing me of their earnest commitment to honour my request. Why oh why do I give them the benefit of the doubt?

So, Edie wanted a kitty cat. And she wanted to eat and run and play and get dunked and get a face painting (a shooting starrrrrrr) AND get a kitty cat. I noted that the line up for the balloon animals was moving as fast as me on a Monday morning so I strongly she suggested that she get in line if she wanted one. She ignored my reasonable, logical suggestion. When Edie finally got in line, she camped out for about ½ an hour before I had to pull her to leave. She wasn’t even remotely close to getting her kitty.

Well, I should have put on some camouflage because apparently I just started a full on war. Edie waged a battle against me so intense, so horrific, I almost waved the white flag. But I couldn’t and dammit, I had to prove that I was the commander, not her, and to be damned with her if she couldn’t handle the truth. It escalated. As if in slow motion, surrounded by all of her little 6 year old friends and their parents, Edie raised the hostilities to the next level and....and.....she hit me. In her sassy little paisley-with-a-ruffle-off-one-shoulder bathing suit, she actually hit me. In front of everyone. So what does one do when this happens? Well, first I give the biggest stink eye to one of the moms who was watching the scene unfold with a look of judgy horror on her face (she actually covered her daughters ears to shield her from Edie’s cries), then I organized my lone supporting soldier (Grace) to collect our things. I marched my prisoner Edie through the school grounds, while she screamed her little pony-tailed head off. The poor balloon guy sensed the issue was a deficit of balloon animals in Edie’s greedy little arms, so he whipped up an odd looking balloon bug? bird? Still not sure what it was – to which Edie screamed “I wanted a cat!” Oh you little ungrateful shit. I could have died.

In the car, the ultimate outcome was:

a) I was the worst mother in the world;
b) The insect? Bird? Balloon was stupid;
c) This was the worst day ever;
d) Edie no longer felt love in her heart for me and her heart was turning black and
e) I removed Max and Ruby from her life for a solid 7 days (this may not sound like much a punishment to you, but for Edie this is akin to taking water/air away from the rest of us.

And of course she woke up sick two days later. This always happens but I never clue in at the time. When they are at their most monster-like, they are usually incubating something evil in their little bodies.

Feel better about your life now? And just what the hell do you think that balloon is meant to be?