Once, when Brianna was about 9 years old, we had a disagreement. I think I had asked her to unload the dishwasher or to stop watching tv because it was time to get ready for bed. Something along those lines. She didn’t like whatever I had asked her to do, so she told me she wasn’t going to do it.
We argued for a little, each of us getting more frustrated with each other, until she finally says, “You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do. You’re not the boss of me!”
That’s where I nearly lost my cool.
“You go to your room!”, I yelled. She turned around and started to go to her room.
“Wait a minute, come back here!”. She turned around and started to come back. “Never mind, I’m so mad at you that I don’t want to talk to you right now. Go upstairs”. She turns around and walks toward the stairs.
“Wait, come here”. She turns around and walks back to me. “Never mind. I’m still mad. Go to your room.”
I let her get a little farther this time before calling “Wait! Come back here”.
By now she is furious. She stomps all the way back downstairs, comes over to me and yells “WHY DO YOU KEEP MAKING ME COME BACK DOWN HERE!!!”
And I calmly say to her “I thought you said I’m not the boss of you”