Rockstarism #296 – Hit Me With Your Best Shot, Little Miss

#296

Kings is trying to watch tv, which he takes very seriously after a hard day’s work because he doesn’t get that much tv time…

Kings (to Rockstar): I told you to turn that down (Rockstar was watching What Does The Fox Say, Minecraft Version on Youtube). Anyway it’s bedtime. (Which is true, I called him in 10 mins ago but then got distracted chasing Her Highness around on the bed for one last diaper change…) Go to bed.

Rockstar huffily tosses my laptop on the sofa, resulting in a hearty telling off from Kings which he doesn’t dare snark back at, and so when he comes in for bedtime routine I get a slammed door. Whereupon it’s my turn to snap at him.

Little Miss (to Rockstar, having overheard both scoldings from her position on the bed): <reproachfully> Nnooo. No, no, no…. NnoooOOooooo.

Me: Stop. Ko-ko’s so angry he’s going to choke.

Little Miss (ignoring me and still looking at Rockstar): <reproachfully> Nnnoooo. No, no, no. No.

Me (not sure whether to laugh or worry it’s going to take a month for Rockstar to cool down): You. Stoppit. Ko-ko’s really not in the mood. Don’t make it worse. And anyway aren’t you scared I can’t keep Ko-ko from doing something to you?

Little Miss (finally meeting my eyes): No.

A very tight jaw-ed Rockstar climbs onto the bed and assumes a fighting stance (no I’m not kidding, and this is laughable because there is just no way he wins a fight against his baby sister – firstly it was drilled into him never to hit her even in retaliation and anyway he never has. Secondly, she has no such qualms (he does however practice his taekwondo blocks on her. I once told him she was good for that upgrade to an A- from a B- in Blocking, last grading :P). And I really need to talk to him about Getting Into Fights You Have No Hope In Hell Of Winning.)

And there, on the bed, stands our fusspot firstborn. Fists clenched tight, knees slightly bent. Go On, Make My Day. Hit Me With Your Best Shot.

Little Miss comes at him with everything she has. She rolls over, then rolls over again, until she’s lying at Rockstar’s feet, on her back, looking up at him. Giggling delightedly, she kicks about in the air and squirms against him going “Ko-ko. Ko-ko. Ko-ko! <wriggle, wriggle, kick, kick>“

Rockstar: Ugh. Off. Get…. off…. Get her off me, Mum. Please. <crawls under the covers to wait for their bedtime story and to go to sleep> 

Rockstar even said please. I should enlist Her Highness’ help more often, in Rockstar Fusspot Anger Management.

ps: Rockstar got his own back, the following day. Little Miss had had a terrible day at Baby Chinese class, and when he got back from school, who knew the first thing her brother would say was “And how was she at Chai-nese today?” and gravely wait for a status report. For real. I didn’t even think he remembered she had Chinese that day.

And I saw Her Highness jump guiltily 😀