Retaliation

When the school year first started, we discontinued Large Fry's afternoon naps during the week, because she doesn't get home until 4 p.m.  However, after Christmas break, we noticed a marked crankiness and surliness from Large Fry by suppertime on school days.  We started insisting that she nap for at least an hour after school, and it was amazing how much the crankies and surlies disappeared.

Today, since Hubby was getting his prescription for strep throat filled (yay; Medium Fry has an appointment tomorrow to check for the same thing) when Large Fry got home, I took a break from work and went to meet the bus.

As usual, I sent Large Fry to the potty once we got inside.  The bus was a little late today, so by the time I got her upstairs, it was quarter after 4.

Hubby got home shortly thereafter, and we talked for a bit before he went back downstairs and I went back to work.

Just about 5 p.m., Large Fry's bedroom door opened.  Hubby hollered from downstairs, "Go back to bed!"

"But I have to go p--"

"Go back to bed!  You just went potty before nap!"  Hubby's a smart man.  And, despite being five, Large Fry should be able to maintain bladder control for a little while longer before she absolutely has to go again...given that it's been less than an hour since she last went.

Large Fry went back in her room and closed her door.  I went back to shift verifications for payroll.

About twenty minutes later, I hear footsteps in the hall.  It's one of the twin Fries.  "Why are you out of bed?" I called.

"I have to go potty!"

The potty is the opposite direction from my bedroom.  "Then go potty!"  Small footsteps headed the other way.

Another twenty minutes later, and Large Fry appears in the doorway of my bedroom.

"Auntie," she intones seriously, "I peed my pants because Uncle told me to go back to bed."

"You peed your pants on purpose?"

Large Fry nods.

"So, instead of holding it, you went pee-pee in your pants because Uncle D told you to go back to bed?"

Another nod.

It was a migraine salute moment.

I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and first two fingers.  Really?  She really did this on purpose?

Okay then.

I don't have time to deal with this.

And I'm not the one she tried to manipulate by doing this.

I sent a text to Hubby.  I need you up here.

Hubby comes up and discovers not one but two twin Fries in the bathroom (sigh), and then I call him back to our room.  Large Fry tries to skip away down the hall.  "Come back here, Large!"

When they're both in the bedroom, I fixed a mild glare on Large Fry.  "You want to tell your uncle what you just told me?"

Large Fry looks up at him.  "I peed in my pants because you told me to go back to bed."

"On purpose," I clarified for Hubby.

Hubby's glare is even sterner.  "You mean you didn't hold it because you were mad at me?"

Large Fry nods.

Well, at least she's not lying.

"How far down does it go?" I asked him.  I can't see anything below Large Fry's waist from where I'm sitting on the bed.

"All the way down the inside of her legs.  Which means she stood up to do it."  Hubby looks back at Large Fry.  "Right?"

She nods again.

He sends Large Fry down to her room to change her clothes, and when I hear him join her and close the door, I know judgment is nigh.

As Large Fry goes sniffling and sniveling down the stairs several minutes later, followed by Medium Fry, Hubby pokes his head back into the room.

"By the way," I asked.  "Do I want to know what happened to the toilet paper roll?"  (Six rolls of toilet paper, still in the wrapping plastic, were in the downstairs bath.  Were.)

He gave me a blank look.

I explained, "I found that two rolls were now on the back of the toilet tank, two were on the floor, one more had been put in the tissue tower, filling it up, and then there's one that was soaked."

With a gimlet eye at the Fry still in the hallway, he said, "Someone was playing in the bathroom today, and got punished until she told me what she was doing.  She said she did something bad, but she didn't say what."

"I guess now we know."

He looked back at me and rolled his eyes in long-suffering.

"Miss Personality, eh?" I guessed, just as Small Fry asked if she could take her piggy downstairs.

Hubby nodded.  "No," he said to Small Fry, "you can't take all that."

A plaintive mumble followed.

"You can take your piggy.  I won't make you go without your piggy, but that's all you can take."


Yep, it's been one of those days.