I took Charlie to the psych yesterday to reevaluate his meds. For months he has had headaches, and, after ruling several other things out, we decided to see if it is med-related. She gave us the option of switching to something else right away or taking a week off meds to see if the headaches are gone. I decided to go home with a prescription 'just in case' we couldn't go without meds for a week.
I made it until 7:56 a.m. before hitting the pharmacy this morning.
Charlie declared that it was Opposite Day and even wrote it on his calendar, except that he wrote it on the square for yesterday because yesterday is the opposite of today. Later, I found his calendar still on my bed. Asked him to put it away, to which he replied, "You have to pick it up. I'm rich and you're poor, so you work for me now!"
I followed him to the living room and repeated this to Dowlan, who shrugged and said, "He found a penny on the floor."
My van is being repaired and we are down to one car, so we had to take Dowlan into work. Charlie decides that it is Opposite Day and so daddy has to drive Charlie to work and that he has to sit in his sister's booster instead of his carseat. I'm not entirely awake, courtesy of Dowlan bringing name Tylenol PM instead of Tylenol this morning, so I'm all fine with him driving instead of me. On the thirty minute round-trip, Charlie makes the following rules:
Charlie can say bad words and I can not.
He can have two pieces of candy anytime I tell him he can have one piece of candy.
I have to play outside while he plays inside.
He cooks the lunch and I put the dishes in the sink.
He can give me spankings all the day long and I can't spank him even just once.
He gets to decide how to spend all the money and he will get cashback at every store.
I realize that this doesn't seem so bad, but it is impossible to replicate in this format the shrill, cackling voice, punctuated with kicks to the back of the seat, in which it was delivered. Or that I was on the highway when he unbuckled the seatbelt and began rolling down the window. Or the additional demands that I have effectively blocked from memory in an act of self-preservation.
The real tragedy? The pharmacy didn't open until 9.