Shadenfreude
Yesterday The Boy's Father called to arrange The Boy's return home and
to complain that The Boy had given him tonsillitis (join the club) and
that he was sick in his car.
Today The Boy came back and I am shamed to admit his retelling of the
sick in the car incident has given me much opportunity for
shadenfreude. Apparently his father had cooked him something he did not
like for dinner and had insisted he ate at least some of it (we know
better - the child is so unfussy normally, if he doesn't like something
we assume there must be a good reason why not and let him steer clear
of it). Anyway, there was a good reason to his not liking it and a
little while later the decision came back to haunt his father in the
shape of projectile vomitting. The Boy managed some powerful stunt, he
hit the windscreen and even splatered the steering wheel.
I should feel bad at feeling joy at the idea of his father cleaning
every last bit out of the car but I don't really. Why not? For starters
the sick covered clothes came back unwashed in a plastic bag. Not only
that but my child had not been bathed or showered between the incident
yesterday afternoon and this afternoon when he was returned (this was
remedied promptish, I may be a lousy mother but I am not that bad by a
long shot).
2.6.05 22:11
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zed / Website (5.6.05 10:04) oh your poor son - i hope he felt better soon. there's nothing like smug satisfaction in times like these, is there ? |
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(5.6.05 15:11) poor boy, I hope you gave his father the sharpside of your toung for not cleaning your boy or his clothes, he deserves toncillitis |
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(5.6.05 22:33) Zoe, you are right, nothing quite like it. Princess, I avoid talking to him if I don't have too, though Him Indoors would like a chat with him about what he fed him while he stayed with him (no veg + no fruit + greasy prepacked food = dicky tummy for days after his return). |
