Wednesday, October 21


Her Highness long agree hath issued a decree requiring that her royal subjects greet her as follows:

* If she is in the mood to mingle with the peasants, thou shalt ignore her. If so much as one royal subject dares to make eye contact, Her Highness shall morph into a terribly heavy growth and attach herself to thine mother. Thine mother will be rendered incapable of moving and it will be all YOUR fault because YOU made eye contact.

* If she is in the mood to celebrate her royal status, thou shalt stop everything, turn, and shout her name in unison. Think Norm at Cheers, but without the mouthy wait staff. Failure to celebrate her existence shall result in The Silent Treatment. Her Highness will cross her arms across her little chest, stick out her lower lip, and silently glare at you.

There shall be no hints as to which greeting Her Highness will expect on any given day for you are expected to be psychic.

Unfortunately, the teachers and kids at dance class are not psychic. They were supposed to yell, "ALEXIS!" They didn't. She was mad. Her Highness went into hissy fit mode immediately, shrinking back against the wall as she sent Death Stares to all of her royal subjects who had erred.

The teachers tried to coax her into participating. She refused.

Other kids tried to coax her into participating. She refused.

Momma don't pay for dance class so that the kid can stand against the wall in a huff.

I shot her the I'm Going to Kick Your Ass if You Don't Knock it Off Mom Stare through the observation window. She responded by suddenly growing a very large set of cajones and GLARING BACK.

We're talking about a child who bursts into tears when I yell at her. The Mom Stare is usually enough to make her run away in fear. However, it seems that the Mom Stare doesn't work through glass. Why wasn't that detail in the instruction manual?

I tried The Mom Stare again. She huffed, recrossed her arms, and stared right back, inching her way closer to the glass. She stood no more than three feet from me, separated only by a thin pane of glass and several onlookers. I wanted to kick her sassy little butt.

I decided to try ignoring her, in hopes that she would grow bored of a one-sided standoff and go back to being her usual good listener self. She grew bored all right. So bored that she resorted to doing half-assed cartwheels while all of the other kids were on the other side of the room listening to the instructor.

There were too many witnesses. I couldn't yell. I could, however, give her hell via sign language. I caught her eyes long enough to sign for her to go play and listen to the teachers.

I know she understood because she signed back, "No."


Eventually Her Highness grew bored of the standoff and joined the class. And by "eventually," I mean about ten seconds after I decided she was going to spend the rest of her life in time out.

When the class ended, she came strutting out of the room, proud of her show of CAJONES! right up until she caught sight of me. It was then that her face melted with apprehension, her shoulders hunched in fear, and she whispered, "I didn't do a good job today."

It's a damn good thing the CAJONES! fell off once the window wasn't there to protect her.


(Pssst . . . Go (link deleted)! Let's bring some Christmas crazy to some kids!)


  1. I love that she was getting sassy with you using sign language. ha

  2. That sign language is going to be even funnier when she learns the good words.

  3. SO glad to know that I am not the only one! Yay. You just joined the "I have a daughter with sass club" Welcome! It doesn't change... They just grow a bigger set of what I call Huevas.

  4. I also love that she was expressing sass through sign language. (It is of course much more funny for those of us who don't have to deal with the frustration of getting her to do what she should in class.) :)

    I feel your pain though. We had to leave The Diva's soccer lesson early this week because she was so bad. Refused to do what the coach asked her and threw the fit of the century because she couldn't do what she wanted. Fun stuff.

  5. Hehe...she learns fast. Wait till she hits the teenage years. I hated the door slam, I swear the whole house shook with my daughters cajones. (Hugs)Indigo

  6. What is up with the expected people to know how they wanted to be greeted using psychic abilities? I get this every morning! So far, I'm able to conjole her out of any funks, but it would be nice to have a little warning before she freaks out because I said good morning and wasn't daddy.

    I love that she was so brave... until she was face to face!

  7. Welcome to the Land of 4-Years-Old. If you can sit on your hands and not kill her, I promise the Land of 5-Years-Old is much, MUCH better.

  8. Public: Enemy Number One.

    Glass: Empowering Wee Ones to Sass Moms All Over the World