I go back and forth with my daughter often on how she isn’t always right about everything. Once a day, at a minimum I’d say.

It’s really freaking annoying, actually. The girl is as stubborn as the day is long. She could be disproved emphatically, yet will still never, ever, admit to it. Or, for that matter, even admit that there is a possibility that she may be wrong. It’s infuriating, to say the least.

Me: “Hey look, that cloud looks like a whale.”

Her: “No it doesn’t.”

Me: “Um, okay. It does to me.”

Her: “Your wrong. It’s a dolphin.”

 

Me: “The days are getting longer now!”

Her: “No they aren’t.”

Me: “Yeah, they actually are since it’s winter solstice.”

Her: “Yeah, but it’s still dark right now, so that’s what counts to me, so I don’t think it’s longer.”

 

Me: “The practice starts at 4.”

Her: “No it doesn’t.”

Me: “Yeah, it does, it’s on the calendar.”

Her: “But it usually starts at 5, and Jenny told me it starts at 5.”

Me: “Okay, but they sent me a paper that said it starts at 4 today.”

Her: “But it doesn’t start at 4. It starts at 5. You’re wrong.”

 

Me: “The sky is blue.”

Her: “It’s not at all blue. It’s actually sky blue.”

 

Grrrrrraaaaaahhhhhh!!

You get the point, right? Pretty much: I say something, she disagrees, then I’m left wanting to scream into pillows because she is only 9 and I know that I have a long, long, long, looooooong ways to go before I can finally start being right again. (My Mom wasn’t “right” until I was about 20 or so. So sorry, Mom. I get it now. Thanks for not punching me in the face. I really appreciate that.)

Anyway, tonight we were helping her younger sister do a presentation on a folktale. Last night, after reading a few similar ones, we picked an African one about an elephant to help her with. The only probably was that some of the stories were blending together and we wanted to make sure the younger sister had her facts straight.

 

 

Cut to older sister, “the story she choose ended with the elephant wrapping it’s trunk in banana leaves.”

I say, “No, it didn’t. That was the other elephant one.”

“Yes, it did.”

“No it didn’t.”

“No, Mom, it was this one.”

“No, Sara, it wasn’t.”

“Yes. It was.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t.”

“You’re wrong. It was.”

“OMG, Sara. Do you think that there’s a chance you could be wrong?”

“No. It was this one.”

“Okay!” (Something is slammed onto the counter, or my hands fly up in the air, or possibly both.) “You’re totally right. I’m totally wrong. Even though I was the one sitting at the computer, reading the story to you all and looking at it the whole time, I have no idea what I’m talking about. It ended with the banana leaves. You win.”

(My husband, at this point, interjects and reminds me how much I hate it when I give in this way. I want to do this in the heat of the moment, but later I regret it. It does nothing to make me feel better, and it lets her get away with bullheadedness and no lesson.)

“Okay, no, I take it back. You’re wrong Sara. And I’m going to pull it up right now and show you that you’re wrong. And when I do show you – that you’re wrong – you’re going to owe me an apology and going to have to admit that you are, in fact, sometimes wrong, and not right all the time.”

(All of that last bit was totally said through gritted teeth and with minimal breathing. Also: I have no idea how I did it with out cussing. Or, I did cuss, but at the time I was in such a blindingly hot rage of fury that I blacked out those parts. That sounds more likely.)

Then I slap open the laptop,

pull up the story,

zoom to the end….

 

Mother. Fucker.

 

“Um.

Yeah.

So,

you’re right.

He put banana leaves on his trunk.”

 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I KNEW IT! DIDN’T I TELL YOU?! I KNEW IT WAS THIS STORY! I KNEW I WAS RIGHT!”

 

*Okay, God.

I hear you.

Thanks for the lesson.

Right now.

Great timing.

Really.

Thanks.

So flippin’ much.*

 

Instead of cursing to the heavens, I say, “Yep, I owe you an apology – and I will show you how it’s done. Sara: You were completely right and I was completely wrong. I am more than willing to sit here and swallow my pride and admit my mistake.”

“Hahahahaha….You’re totally in pain, Mom.”

You have no idea kid, no freaking idea at all.