The Urge to Kill

Child abuse is a horrible thing. I've spent my entire career working with and defending kids. But I gotta tell ya, I came this close ---> <--- to throttling my grandchildren this afternoon!

It was a perfectly okay day. I worked to maintain the cleaning headway we had made over the last week. I did some dishes and caught up on some laundry. Planned a nice dinner. I even got a luxury bath, complete with my favorite bath oil, before the children got off the school bus. And they got off in good moods. Great day!

The kids had their after-school snacks and were watching TV. All was well...or so I thought. Then, out of nowhere, my grandson heaved the TiVo remote control all the way through the kitchen, from the living room, at his sister. It hit the kitchen floor and went into a zillion pieces.

I confess: I came unglued. I yelled and screamed and threatened to take his favorite toy and smash it to a million pieces, then ordered him to his room. You'd be proud of me: I wanted to beat him bloody...but didn't. Robin, who had hidden in the utility room to escape my wrath, was next on the hit list. The scenario was that Ryan was singing a song in the living room. Robin didn't want him to. She hit him a time or two and tossed the TiVo remote at him, which prompted him to heave it at her. She wasn't innocent. She was ordered to HER room, too. The neighbor boy came to the door wanting the children to come out. Too bad! Ryan was told that he could only come out when his mother got home (and she was late due to some traffic tie-up). Robin fell asleep.

I want everyone to know that the stupid remote control is not worth my blood pressure OR my grandson's sense of being loved. I'm sure he had no notion that the thing would be destroyed by his actions; HOWEVER, the living room television cannot be operated without it. We can turn it on and off at the power button. Period. My main concern is his reckless disregard for property. Meg has ordered a new one, which Ryan will have to "work off". It's not going to be easy for one 5-year-old to work off a $50 investment...but he will, or will lose his "Jack" privileges. In the meantime, I took his Star Wars light saber, which is gone for good. (He paid for it with money he had saved, blah, blah...)

The day ended okay. I am still a bit miffed at Ryan. I have to keep telling myself that I am the adult. Interesting how children figure out what buttons to push!