so he's a little... off. so what?

So here's the situation:

Friend's house for dinner. Chicken wants to play upstairs in the room where a baby is sleeping. If he can't do that, then he is going to make us all pay, and pay dearly. As the adults eat their beautiful salmon, salad, grilled corn, and homemade macaroni and cheese, I take a flailing, screaming, melting-down Chicken into the bathroom for a time-in.

Me: baby? Baby? Chicken? 

Chicken: waaaaaant upstaaaaaairs! (kicking the sink)

Me: I hear you sweetheart. You want to go upstairs.

Chicken: YEAAAAAAAH! (He stops screaming for a second to see if I'm about to say yes.)

Me: there's a baby sleeping upstairs so it had to stay quiet up there. We need to stay down--

Chicken: NOOOOOOOO! Waaaant upstaaaaairs! 

Me: I know baby. But you know what we have downstairs? We have sidewalk chalk?

Chicken: NOOOOOO! (His voice goes up in pitch, at full squawk, like I just offered him a needle to stick in his eyeball.)

Me: all you have to say is "no thank you"

Chicken: (suddenly composed) no thank you.

Me: that was so nice! Ok, no chalk. We can color with cray--

Chicken: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! (His voice goes up another half-step to dog-whistle shriek, as if I've just eaten an entire chocolate birthday cake without giving him a single bite.)

Me: can you say "no thank you?"

Chicken: (instantly calm) no thank you.

Me: oh how nice it is when you use you'd words! No crayons, gotcha. How about balloons? We can blow them up and let them fly around the room when we let go?

Chicken: no no no no no nooooo-ho-ho-hoooooo! (He's not feeling jolly. He's starting to sob.) uh-up-stay-urs! (Gasp between each syllable)

Me: okay, okay, okay buddy... You know what? I don't think we have any other choice. I was saving this for an emergency... And I think this moment qualifies. Should we...

(He stops wailing to listen)

... wrap you up in streamers so you look like a mummy?

Chicken: (sniffs) yeah.

And that's why I always travel with streamers.


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