The Only Child

The Kid is an only child.  Her father is the only child of an only child.

I come from a huge family (think the Waltons mixed with the United Nations with a little Special Olympics thrown in), and I never planned on having only one child.

After a miscarriage and my uterus attempting to vacate the building though, surgeries were done that secured her only-childness.

When she was little before THE SURGERY, we would ask her if she wanted a little brother or sister, and like all only children who have been given everything they ever want and have all the attention, she would scream, "NO!"  My husband took it to mean that it was a sign we should never have more.

I hadn't wanted my sister Carrie, but that didn't stop her from entering the world.

And I only tried to kill her twice.

And maim her once. Though that one wasn't really my fault....was it, Carrie?

I promise *holding my fingers in the air* to write a post about all that very soon.

This story, however, is about my child who has suddenly decided she wants brothers and sisters and since she knows this is no longer an option, she's started recruiting the animals to be her siblings so that she can gang up on me the same way we used to gang up on my mom.

For the past three days, The Kid has been begging for pancakes every morning.

My responses were as follows:

Day One: Pancakes?? On a school day?  Are you nuts?
Day Two:   Pancakes?   I'm on stinkin' Tamiflu, my knees are killing me, my head is about to do me in, and I'm running fever.....are you nuts?
Day Three:    NO.

Today, however, I hear this from the bedroom....

Kid talking to the Dog:   She's told me, "No," for three days.  You ask her.
Dog:  silence.
Kid:  I know!   She's mean when she's sick, but I can taste that maple-y goodness now.  Go ask her.
Dog:  silence
Kid:  I'll be right here.   We have to have pancakes.  You know how much you like them.   Go. Ask. Her.
Dog:  silence, but comes into my room.
Kid, whispers from the other room:  You can do it!
Dog: silence.
Kid:  She said, "No," again didn't she?
Me: I didn't say anything, because the Dog didn't ask me anything.
Kid, all downtrodden:   Some day, we'll get them, Puppy, some day.
Kid, brightening up a bit:  PsychoticKitty, YOU go ask her..  Help me, PsychoticKitty, you're our only hope (said like Princess Leia).
PsychoticKitty:   Rawr....pfft, pfft.
Kid:  No, ask her.
PsychoticKitty: *jumps on  my bed*
Kid:   Come on, I can taste their fluffy goodness right now.   You know you want some. Ask her!
PsychoticKitty:   *jumps off  my bed*
Kid:   It's just not meant to be... I'll never have pancakes before I die.
Me:  Are you planning on dying today?
Kid:  No, but I just can see how my life plays out, and there are no pancakes in it.  It's a stalemate.   *sigh*

No, the guilt did not work. She didn't get pancakes.