There's no talking to my children these days. Seriously, we can't have any sort of conversation without someone turning into an entitled little turd monkey.
Doodlebug was upstairs. Boo was practicing her violin in her room, and Doodlebug was *supposed* to be cleaning his. In theory, of course. Instead, I heard the shriek of an indignant (and also constantly attitude-laden) girl. I called Doodlebug down and told him to stop messing with his sister. He said ok and promptly went back upstairs… to mess with his sister. I called him down a second time and told him to knock it off and enumerated a consequence if the behavior continued, specifically that he would be told to eat dinner and go to bed early. Because if he couldn't manage to control himself around people, it was a sign to me that he needed to go to bed so he couldn't be around anyone. Made sense to me, anyway. He said ok and promptly went back upstairs… to mess with his sister.
So I called him down a THIRD time and told him the consequence was being enacted and to get dinner. He walked over to the fridge and stood there with the door hanging open. I told him to get food and get out, and in response he slammed the fridge door because heaven forbid we close a door with any sort of decency around here. I let it slide and told him to feed the animals while he thought about what food he wanted to eat, at which point in time he flopped himself on the floor like a 2-year-old. I told him to get moving.
So he grabbed the food bowls and hauled them to the laundry room, where he flung open the closet door and yanked out the cat food bag. I heard food fly and reminded him that he would need to clean up that food.
"It's FOUR pieces," he shot back. "Apparently I need to clean FOUR pieces."
"Yes, you do!"
"Mutter mutter mutter..." *cracks cat food can open and flops the lid on the dryer, where I know for a fact it's dripping wet cat food juice on the top*
"You'll need to clean up that mess, too, you know."
"THERE'S NO MESS. THAT'S FROM YESTERDAY."
"Well, if it's there from yesterday, clean it up!"
"I *WILL,* but I didn't make a mess!"
"As long as you clean it up! Just CLEAN IT UP."
I look over to see what he's doing and he's got a cat in his arms and is positioning it precisely two inches over the food bowl and holding it there. Cat torture. Awesome.
"I'm just getting him down!"
"Son, I've been watching you. You want me to do that to you??"
"No." *puts cat down*
"Then what on earth…???"
"He was trying to steal food and I was getting him down!"
"OK. Get the animals fed, and you can forget about having a proper dinner. You can have a banana or yogurt, take your shower, and GO TO BED. Since you can't quit messing with anything, apparently."
"But I didn't DO anything!!!"
And after all that (and then some), there was, in fact, a mess from today's cat food can lid. Oz went in and saw it (because Doodlebug did not, in fact, clean up any of the FOUR pieces of cat food or yesterday's mess, despite his assurances that he would do so) and we had to call the boy back downstairs and get him to clean it, and then he started fighting with us again because we're just so mean for making him do something he'd said he'd do and we're just overreacting to his little white lie that there wasn't a mess today.
This scenario plays out, in various versions, half a dozen times every day, and while this particular version is about Doodlbug, Boo is not innocent. This morning she had a snark episode about French toast sticks for breakfast. Seriously. French toast sticks.
(For the record, the serving size is two sticks. There are six in a box. And two sticks is simply not enough breakfast and therefore, or so sayeth Boo, nobody will EAT the sticks because it's just not enough. My answer of just eating more sticks was apparently completely unexpected and unacceptable, and clearly I should never ever buy them again.)
I am ill-equipped to deal with these sorts of scenarios. I loathe attitude and disrespect in any way, shape or form. Oz is equally done with all of it.
Pretty sure our children won't see the other side of their teen years. Heck, they'll be lucky to see trick-or-treating tomorrow night.