Skrip - tyur' - i - ent: adj. Possessing the violent desire to write.



Two things that will help you understand the rest of this post:

  1. Macey is potty training (and actually doing a great job of it)
  2. The Scientist loves Slurpees. I mean, LOOOOVES Slurpees
The Scientist goes to pick up the girls after daycare. Macey is wearing big-girl panties all day now (as opposed to Pull-Ups) so one of the first things asked of the daycare teachers is if she stayed dry all day. Now, I don’t remember if my wife had talked to Macey about this ahead or time, or just decided on the spur of the moment, but she thought that if Macey had stayed dry all day she would get a special treat right after school; ie., a Slurpee.

So The Scientist shows up to daycare and the girls are all excited and run over to see her. A teacher confirms that Macey has stayed dry all day long. So, my wife says, “Macey, that’s great! Since you stayed dry we’re all going to get Slurpees!”

And then, at that very moment, Macey wets her pants.

She reaches around and grabs her butt. The Scientist says, “Oh no, Macey, you didn’t just…”

And Macey, in a little sad voice says, “Slurpees?”

And, being that The Scientist and I are pretty hardass when it comes to doing what we say, she has to inform Macey that, sorry, now there will be no Slurpees on the way home.

“But… but, Slurpee!” Macey says.

“Sorry, honey, but I said that we could only get Slurpees if you stayed dry…”

Then all hell broke loose.

Macey reacted to this virtual “Psyke!” from The Scientist with unadulterated furry. “Slurpee! Sluuuuuurpeeeee!!” she bellowed. This went on for the entire car ride home. It was about this time I called on my way home, and The Scientist answered from the car. I could barely hear her because of the screaming coming from the back seat.

“Slurrrrrrrrpeee! SLURR-PEE!!”

“What is going on?” I asked. “I’ll tell you when you get home,” my wife answered, grumpily.

When I got home the fit had not abated one bit. “Sluuuurpeee! SLURRPEEEEEEEE!!” I got the run-down and tried my best to distract Macey. Lily was also grumpy, but in the general grousing way: “I wanted to get a Slurpee, too! But Macey messed it up and I don’t like it when she does all that crying and I’m thirsty but not for milk but a red Slurpee….”

This went on for quite some time, and I’m doing a really poor job of explaining the horror/pathos of Macey’s crys. It was a pathetic cross between “Oh dear Lord, I miss my best friend the Slurpee and I’ll never see her again” and “Mama fucked me over big-time.

But this, like all things related to our kids having fits, finally passed.

And the next day, Macey stayed dry and did get a Slurpee.

Thank God.

Addendum: As evidenced above, the entire family got Slurpees the next day. AND the next day after that. Since we only fill them up half-way, that means we're still good parents, right?

EDIT: I've corrected the story above after The Scientist reminded me that it was oh-so much more tragic than I originally related. The corrected tale is above.


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