Do your kids fight over things that are not even a remote possibility? Mine do. Constantly spoiling for a fight that ain't never gonna happen.
We pull into the gas station and spy a totally cool car -- gold, sporty, souped-out.
"I call that car," Ainsley shrieks.
"No, it's mine," John interjects, "But you can have a Ferrari."
He kindly tosses her a bone, but she's not having any of it.
"I. don't. want. a. Ferrari," she says, clearly enunciating each syllable.
"You can have a Lamborghini," he generously offers.
No, no. She's having none of it.
This morning it was donuts.
"I get all the donuts," Ainsley declares, not realizing we have precisely zero donuts in our house.
"I get the whole donut store," John counters.
Ainsley's at a loss for words, so John just forges ahead. "I get the donut store plus infinity plus infinity."
Ainsley is flummoxed completely, blue eyes rolling into the back of her head. Though she can count and handle a little rudimentary addition, the concept of infinity plus infinity makes her head spin, and Tim, our resident lover of all things Math, is not here to bail her out.
The look on her face reminds me of the scene in A Christmas Story when a kid jumps immediately from Dare to Triple Dog Dare, a gross and unforgivable violation of playground etiquette.
"Well," she says in halting voice, "I get it, too. Me, too."
In a rare act of compassion, John makes no comment on her lame response