Last night I brought dinner to my friend Brooke, who has a broken foot. Brooke has an 11 month old son and has been chasing him around like a one-legged pirate, except she does in fact, have two legs. One of them is just covered in a huge clunky cast. Thus, the step-CLUNK, Step-CLUNK pirate effect. But without the eye patch.

So we brought Brooke dinner and stayed for a visit. Maggie has been talking up a storm lately. She parrots back darn near everything you say. Maggie has also become fairly willful, which toddlers are prone to do. Being in that strange twilight zone between willfulness and decipherable sentence structure, it is at times, difficult to determine what it is exactly, that she wants. Often she wants me to do something that the current circumstances prohibit, for example, picking her up and carrying to her room so she can view the items displayed on the top of her dresser for the infinitieth time in an hour. Like say, for example, when I am sautéing something on a hot stove, and she maneuvers her way between me and the hot stove, wailing frantically as she pushes me back with all of her freakishly strong toddler might. In addition, she expresses her utter despair by wailing at the top of her lungs while big fat tears spring from her eyes and her gaping mouth takes over two thirds of her face. When this happens, and I am unable to fulfill her demands, I typically pick her up, give her a hug and say “I’m Sorry! I’m sorry honey! I can’t do that right now. I know. I’m sorry.�

Last night while we were eating and trying to carry on a semblance of an adult conversation, Maggie began one of her wailing episodes. My lack of response to her demands was clearly not cutting the mustard. She began the meltdown dance, little feet stomping frantically. “I Sah-Weeeeee� she sobbed over and over again. “I SAH-WEEEEE!!!!� It was quite possibly the most heart wrenching display I had ever seen. “I SAH-WEEEEEEE!� she cried and stammered as I tried to calm her down.

My child, bereft, seemingly apologizing to me for her own wailing. She was not really apologizing to me, mind you. Just parroting back the empathetic response I typically give to her, but the end result gave a freaky, bereft, abused child effect. I am thinking of teaching her to add “mommy dearest� to the end.

Can you picture it?

Maggie falls off of her tricyle and is bleeding profusely. Me “NOT NOW! MOMMY’S WATCHING HER STORIES!!!!�

Maggie wailing: “I SAH-WEEEE!�

Maggie, scrubbing the floor with powder cleanser in a desperate frenzy as I screech and pummel her with a wire hanger. I snatch the can from her small hand, and beat her about the head with it, streams of cleanser fly through the air. “I SAH-WEEEEEEE MOMMY!!!!!�

Maggie handing me her report card with an A- while I tower over her, glaring. “I SAH-WEEEEE Mommy!�

Perhaps I should come up with a new way of expressing my empathy when she has a meltdown. Like “I rebuke thee, Mother!�. Or maybe I will just substitute “It’s okay� for “I’m sorry�. It’s not quite as entertaining, but it’s less likely to send child protective services to my house for a visit.