Dick.

Sometimes when you are an observant parent you can really tell what your child is thinking, just by looking into his or her eyes. The vivid blue windows that lead into my three-year-old’s soul have been quite vocal lately. They seem to repeat the same sentence over and over again; YOU ARE A DICK.

And you know what? She’s right. I can be a real dick.

Yesterday when she wanted to wear the same dress that she’s had on for the past five days AGAIN– I said no. And then I made her change into a new one… that wasn’t even her favorite.

When I temporarily lost track of her in the store because she wouldn’t listen and stay close to me– I lectured her. In public. And then, shame of all shames, I put her in timeout. I could clearly read her thoughts: “Mommy, you are being a real dick.”

When she wanted to only eat oatmeal for six meals straight, I told her that she had to eat some veggies. She put her tiny hands on her hips, wrinkled up her nose and with every cell in her body she screamed an almost inaudible slew of words at me. But because I’m her mother, I knew exactly what they meant:

“DICK DICK DICK DICK DICK DICK”.

I told her last weekend that she couldn’t have a cookie for a breakfast. Her precious mouth quivered and her eyes brimmed with tears. She asked again.

“No,” I said. “We don’t eat cookies for breakfast.” She humphed and crawled under the table, where I heard her whispering to her brother and saw her point at me. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the gist of what she was saying.

You know how some mothers wear those cute necklaces that have something sweet carved into them? I have a terrible fear that come Mother’s Day I’m going to get one, too. But instead of it saying “Mommy” or my child’s name, it’s going to be a silver pendant dangling from a glittering chain that clearly says: