I’m in the airport today, exhausted, approximately 3 hours’ sleep before getting up to catch our 8 am plane, probably still intoxicated from the wonderful evening before (thank God for DD husband), with a squirmy five year old.

SHE got a good night’s sleep last night. SHE is too young to drink so she stayed home with her aunts and uncle and cousins decorating cupcakes and watching football or something.

And we just had our lunch.

So what the hell is her problem?

She’s throwing herself all over the place, unable to sit still, blatantly staring at people, watching over people’s shoulders as they did– whatever it was they were doing, I’m too well mannered to be that nosy… She was approaching a little horror.

Then she began to whine.

It was on.

I said okay, you lose your TV privileges then.

She whined even louder. She had her curlymop head squished down into the airport bench seat beside me like a sort of center for all of the flopping around she was doing with the rest of her body. So the howls were coming up from what sounded like parenting hell. I wasn’t there, but I could hear it.

Okay, keep it up, there goes another day!

This was a class A power struggle, right in public. BRAT!

Suddenly I was stricken (even through my impairment) by genius.

I said, perhaps you can earn your TV back by being good. You can earn one show at a time. You can earn one show back right now by sitting up properly in that chair NOW.

Noooooo! She whined.

Then she skipped a beat and from the maw of parenting hell I heard ‘TWO shows.’

I stifled the giggle & wiped the smile off my face immediately.

ONE at a time. Now come here and sit with mommy. I gathered my bad baby into my lap and hugged her all up. Whining over.

But I didn’t let her watch tv.