Torts & Tots

Motherhood. Lawyer-dom. And maybe a few nice recipes.

Avery’s The Boss (of Chickens).

with 2 comments

Although I think she lives a charmed life, I also think that it must be somewhat frustrating to be Avery.  Really, I think any three-year-old probably deals with a certain level of daily frustration.  Three-year-olds are basically fully functioning human beings, and yet, their days are spent hearing about all the things they cannot do.  I’m rewinding just what I have told Avery not to do thus far this morning: don’t take toys from Claire, don’t fake cry, don’t put your hands in your pants, don’t bother Wilson (our Scottish Terrier who is easily offended) while he drinks water, don’t ask me that question again, etc.  And that is only taking into consideration the things I tell her not to do.  The amount of things I tell her to do are endless.  So I think there is a certain amount of baseline frustration inherent in being a three-year-old. 

I think Avery likely experiences a little more than average frustration because her tiny heart yearns for control.  Avery wants to be the boss.  She would love to be the boss of Claire, but Claire’s not on board.  We have seen Avery’s desire for control manifest itself lately in daily reminders from her to use our manners.  We have been working on getting Avery to not say “ya.”  Today, as Jerrod left for work, Avery said “bye Dad, have a good day, be a good boy, don’t say ‘ya’ at work today daddy.”  And I won’t even get into the story behind Avery loudly telling me not to pick my nose while we were in a crowded aisle of the grocery store .

Thus, I arrive at my main point.  Last weekend, Avery got to be the boss.  And it was glorious.  We were visiting Jerrod’s parents, a.k.a. Avery’s dream vacation.  Avery very hesitantly went to visit the chicken coop.  Although she really wants control, sometimes she lacks the bravado to take it.  Jerrod’s mom told Avery that she could chase the chickens and that they would run.  That was all it took.  For the next two days, Avery chased those chickens within an inch of their lives.  As she chased, all we could hear was gleeful laughing and indignant clucking.  The moment she woke up from her nap, she requested to chase chickens.  After she ate dinner, she wanted to get in a little chicken chasing before bedtime.  It was endless entertainment.  Avery loved being the boss.  Of poultry.


Written by tortsandtots

May 15, 2012 at 9:13 am

Posted in Uncategorized

2 Responses

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  1. Well. If you would stop picking your nose at the grocery store, she wouldn’t need to remind you.

    ant gar

    May 15, 2012 at 8:12 pm

    • True. But it’s so hard to remember not to pick my nose in uber public places. Good thing I have someone to remind me.


      May 16, 2012 at 8:51 am

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