I'm like putty

I am a massive soft cock when it comes to wrangling kids—though I should note in this sense I am using wrangle as per its herding animals meaning as opposed to noisy bickering or quarreling. 

Having been yelled at by bigger people as a child I do not wish to inflict that on children, especially my own. So I try and keep anger in check whenever I can, especially given the tendency of men in my family of being quick to anger and often excessively so (1).

So when it comes to good cop, bad cop in the house then yes I am fully the good cop. Indeed I suspect it's probably the case that other fathers of my age also wear the mantle of good cop because we've realised being a scary dad is far more counter productive.  And like a good good cop I use the threat of bad cop, theWife, frequently when trying to influence him—'Mummy wouldn't like that, Chooky...'

theBoy is not yet five but he's learned an array of techniques to manage me in order to get his way. The other day he was watching Kung Fu Panda. He decided he didn't want to watch it any more and asked me to come out of the kitchen and change it to ABC Kids. As I got to the remote he shouted out 'WAIT! I love this bit!', which was where Panda rockets up and over a wall on a firework powered chair. I was busy so I told him 'Okay, Chooky, you keep watching this then because I'm not coming back.'

I returned to the kitchen and after the chair meets fireworks bit of the movie finished he came to find me.

'Come and change it to ABC Kids!' he demanded. 

'No, Chooky, I said I was going to change it but you decided not to change it so I'm not going back. It's irritating.'

Then he played one of his manage daddy moves. He grabbed me by the hand and ever so gently pulled on it. 'Come on, Daddy' he said, grinning.

I'm putty so I gave in. 

He led me ever so sweetly and gently to where the remotes were piled next to one of his three toy pirate ships and handed me the correct remote to use. He smiled, again sweet and gentle, then walked over to the beanbag in anticipation of my switching it to ABC Kids.

He flopped backwards into the beanbag then turned in place and pointed at me.

'NOW DO IT!' he yelled.

I couldn't help myself. I laughed richly and changed it over.

Like putty...

(1) Due I think to a combo of genetics and upbringing. At the very least I can influence on upbringing. When I think back on a often unhappy childhood I suspect a chunk of my anger was situational and physiological. I was in what I perceived to be unhappy circumstances which in turn with a not great bod led to feelings of sads at a young age. Now, even wracked with an often not tremendous sense of health, I am doing better. I think it's 'cos I have a Chooky and I can give and receive as much love as each of us can handle. So fuck the world; best revenge is doing well and so forth.