Don’t Flick Your Kid

Discipline is a tricky concept. There is self-discipline, where you are responsible for monitoring your own behavior… but since you are the one disciplining you, who is going to tell if you end up letting yourself off the hook?

“Hey Toni, you need to work out.”
“Okay Toni, but I don’t feel like it. Can’t we do it tomorrow?”
“Good idea Toni!”

See?

We discipline our dogs, because telling a cat what to do is about as effective as trying to get out of a cell phone contract, but there is no real moral quandary around that.

“No Fido, don’t shit on the rug.” Pretty simple.

But disciplining a kid is a whole new life experience that I am not sure I am very good at.

For example… The other night my cousin was visiting and we were giving The Munch her nighttime bath. The Munch was being supremely cute playing peek-a-boo, further proving her genius status. She hid behind the tub so we couldn’t see her, and then she would pop up and we could. Truly next level thinking.

“Well, Toni… this is wonderful and all, but I am going to fall asleep soon and we still have to watch Jersey Shore…”

We do have priorities after all.

So I started to bend over to find the towel to get The Munch out of the bath and out of nowhere she sunk her teeth into my shoulder and bit me. Now, this wasn’t the run of the mill ordinary bite. This was a Hannibal Lecter style of commitment, and she was not letting go penetrating deeper and deeper by the second. She was like a lock-jawed rabid pit bull Cujo from the depths of Stephen King’s nightmares.

“Ahhhhhh… ow ow ow!!” But she didn’t seem to care, and just hung on.

So I flicked her.

I am not saying this was the best idea I ever had. But she did let go… and boy was she mad.

Moments before the fateful bite…