There comes a time, apparently, when children begin to flagrantly, mockingly disregard their parents' commands, and we are now living in that time.
At the gas station, lo, my spawn did fuck with the pump until I yelled at him.
From the kitchen he did flee with a purloined (and out of season) ear of corn, laughing all the way to the bedroom where he did snack upon it, right after I most shrilly told him to wait, for it was meant to be a part of his dinner.
Yea, verily, there comes a point where a parent must choose to become a raving bitch, or else to laugh back at the recalcitrant child and withhold much candy and television until The Unquestionable Right Of Premenstrual Elders To Dictate What You Put In Your Goddamned Mouth is restored.
Woe betide the mother who has been forced into to having a sense of humor about disciplining her child, for she will bear no more offspring, but maybe get a dog instead.