Since he is, technically, an 'adult' (& I'm using that term loosely here...) he exercises his right to run his life as he sees fit. That includes deciding when, where, & if he will accept any version of 'parenting'. *He has been known to verbally warn me 'not to get all parenty with him'.
Yesterday, home from school, the boy looked like poached shit. He had a high fever and was red in the face, his eyes were glassy and he was obviously weak. Some of you are probably thinking it sounds more like he was high -- perhaps you forget that I can totally tell the difference...
I brought out some night-time Benadryl cold & flu for him. He regarded the pill suspiciously & asked me if it was going to make him pass out or something; I told him not to be ridiculous, that I was just giving him that one because he didn't have any reason to be alert at the moment.
He barely ate any supper and had no energy to do more than lay on the couch, half asleep. About 7pm I decided he needed real sleep - he refused to go to bed. I asked if he'd let me put some Vicks rub on him - another refusal. How about some Neo Citran then? Finally got an okay.
That's when I decided to outwit him. What? That's wrong? I've always thought of harmless deceptions as part of getting the job done with stubborn little boys...
When he was a little guy and wouldn't eat vegetables, I pureed spinach and added it to chocolate cupcakes (his favourite).
Reasoning that knocking out my son with the help of pharmaceuticals fell into the 'for his own good' category, I boiled a kettle and mixed up two packets of Neo Citran for his stubborn ass. I urged him to drink it while it was hot so it could melt his mucous (I know, even I am grossed out, but I was extremely goal-oriented at the time).
20 minutes later I again insisted he go to bed - little brat flat out refused. I asked why he was refusing to just do what was good for him - he said,
"Because I can."
His defences were so weakened by fever that he finally gave in & headed for bed @ 7:40pm, viciously slamming the door behind him and muttering angrily about how he wouldn't even bother trying to 'hang out with me' again.
This morning I heard him in the shower by 5am, singing. I poked my head into the office to say good morning; he looked much brighter and I could see he'd eaten some breakfast too.
"You look better this morning honey", I said.
He gave me a steely glare and curtly said, "Good".
My dismissal seemed implied...
His sister poked her head in to ask him something, and I gestured for her to give him the glass of apple juice I'd just poured for him. She turned to pick up the glass and I heard,
"Why can't you ever shut the fucking door??"
"Because I'm bringing you some fucking apple juice you ASS."
Ahhh, he's definitely feeling his old self again; I can put away my mom suit til the next time.
Right after I bake up some choco-spinach cupcakes.
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