Does anyone remember playing the mimic game as a child? I'm
not actually certain that is the formal name of said game, but it's close
enough for you, dear reader, to understand the reference. In case you're still
confused, it's that game that kids like to play where they essentially repeat
everything someone else says until that second person spirals into pure, unadulterated
madness.
Since I was an only child, I didn't have a sibling or
anything to be the brunt of my abuse in the mimic game. Therefore, I instead
would use my mom and dad as unwitting fodder for this game. While all would be
well and good for a bit, it was only a matter of time until I'd get yelled at
to stop (for good reason). Man, in writing this, I am certainly reminded of
just how bratty of a kid I could be.
The good thing about the mimic game is that it doesn't
necessarily have to be irritating. As a dad of a very impressionable daughter,
I see her playing her own version of the mimic game quite often. Ellie's
version of the mimic game stems from her desire to be like Bethany and/or me
rather than to be irritating. However, that being said, Ellie's playing of the
mimic game still isn't always a great thing. Need an example? Here we go.
Before I get too deep into this, I feel the need to confirm
that Ellie is only two years old. Well, not quite two but close enough for the
purposes of this story. Therefore, she really shouldn't be devolving into
teenage-like behavior yet. What is this teenage-like behavior you ask? Simple,
any time Ellie fails to get her way, she has developed a new habit of taking a
deep breath before muttering the words, "Ok, fine."
It's here that I feel
the urge to explain the origin of "Ok, fine" entering Ellie's
lexicon. You see, while dads do love their daughters, let's get one thing
straight. Moms are blessed with infinitely more patience than dads. Or at least
I'm assuming that to be the case until someone tells me otherwise.
Throughout Ellie's life, there have been those moments where
I've found myself overcome by an overwhelming desire to scream at my daughter.
Normally it has something to do with the fact that she's screaming at me in
that moment. Instead of giving into that urge though, I've instead resorted to
laying her down in her crib and walking away while muttering two words,
"Ok, fine."
Now, my usage of this phrase comes from a good place. I
generally don't want to scream at Ellie if I can keep from doing so. However, I
do need a calm and steady way to express my displeasure with her from
time-to-time. "Ok, fine" enables me to do just that. Apparently,
Ellie feels the same way as she has found her own rules for how to properly use
"Ok, fine."
No time of day seems to be safe from Ellie muttering
"Ok, fine" as of this writing. There's been times where we've fought
over dinner to get Ellie to eat something, anything, before finally just
informing her that if she doesn't eat what's on her plate, then she doesn't
eat. Ellie's response, "Ok, fine." The same occurs each night at
bedtime as Ellie's new bedtime routine seems to include a never-ending stream
of books. Eventually, Bethany or I will have to cut her off, only to receive a
hearty "Ok, fine" in return.
While hearing one's toddler exclaiming "Ok, fine"
in an exasperated tone at all times can be a bit much, I will admit that it is
slightly cute. It also makes me truly appreciate my own personal decision to
abstain from profanity.
After all, let's all agree that it wouldn't be nearly as
cute if Ellie was running around dropping f-bombs on unsuspecting people because
she didn't get her way. #DaddyWrite
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| Can we agree that not all mimicry is bad? Can't decry a good double Zoolander face. |
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