Good Listeners

I always wondered what it would be like to have someone listen to everything I say. And not just listen, but actually hear me and get it and do what I want them to do. You know, that type of person that just has to change their tone a little bit and it stops their kids dead in their tracks. I just don't have it. My kids are sometimes bad listeners. Sometimes are better than others. Sometimes, I think the wax buildup makes them unable to hear me. Or I have that type of ultrasonic voice that makes them go crazy and run away. Or, I just talk so much that their eyes glaze over and they just completely block me out. Today, right before we walked in the bank, I told the girls I expected them to behave. I asked them to wait patiently and, if they were good, the teller would probably give them each a lollipop. "Okay, Mama," is what they said. They lied. It's like as soon as they walked through the door, they turned into crazy, hyperactive maniacs that wanted to do karate kicks and pull my pants down. And they knew they had me, those little punks. They knew I couldn't turn around, grab them and walk out. They had me by the short hairs, so to speak. So, they kept going nutso and giggling because Mommy couldn't do a darn thing to stop them. I gave them the evil eye. I gritted my teeth. Nothing worked. Thankfully, the teller was patient. She finally gave them lollipops. Not because they were good, but it was her way of shutting them up!