I Guilt-Tripped My Son By Hiding In A Bin

Things came to a minor head with the Major earlier this week. He was sat on the bathroom toilet as I got home from work and poked my head through the door. He told me to leave and get in the bin. I asked him which bin and he replied the kitchen bin. This was clearly absurd. The kitchen bin is far too small for me to get into. I offered him the choice of one of the three outside bins: garden, recycling or normal. Clearly he plumped for the normal bin, the one with the fetid pool of bin juice at its base and the recent bluebottle infestation.

So I tramped downstairs and opened and shut the front door so that he could hear it. Then I went and hid under the staircase. I listened out as he padded along the landing into our bedroom to look out of the front window at the bin which he now imagined to be containing his father. And as I cowered under the stairs while he frantically pleaded with his mum to retrieve me from the bin I couldn’t help but think that something had gone wrong with my parenting strategy.

There are mitigating circumstances. From the moment that he found his voice the Major has subjected me to a verbal battery of taunts which he has fired at me on a regular basis. If our house had an HR department then I would have lodged a formal complaint in the hope that disciplinary proceedings would be initiated.

Most of abuse happens in the few hours after I’ve returned from the office and before he has fallen asleep, when the air is simmering with a toxic blend of resentment and fatigue. It began with a simple “no, Dadu” repeated like a mantra, but has evolved with the improvements in his vocabulary. In the last week alone the tirades have ranged from the knockabout (“you silly old sod”) to the metaphysical (“Daddy, you’re like a bad dream”). Once I heard him beg his mother not to leave the room so as not to be left alone with me.

We’ve always been able to rationalise the manner in which he singles me out by pointing to the fact that he recognises the paternal neediness in me and mischievously plays on it. But the other day I eavesdropped on a conversation that the Major had with his mum during which he calmly explained that he did not want to play with me, the reasons for which appeared to be that I smelt. I actually smell really nice.

My reaction to the constant bombardment is always powerful amusement. But the lack of cooperation that it is aligned to is dispiriting. The bin charade was a result of weariness and resignation, a culmination. It was not part of a coherent plan, it was my normal ‘seat-of-the-pants’ parenting.

But the ‘bincident’ was also a watershed. Since that evening the Major has adopted a more affable approach. It seems that in effect I have guilt-tripped him into liking me, and I achieved this by filling his little head with dark images of me hunkering down among the soiled nappies and maggots at the bottom of a bin. It’s obviously not how I planned it but for the last few days the Major has embraced me, literally and figuratively. Children. You just never know.

Any good?

15 thoughts on “I Guilt-Tripped My Son By Hiding In A Bin”

  1. Haha! Is it wrong that I’m most interested to know how you managed to emerge from under the stairs with him still thinking you’d been in the bin?! #KCACOLS

     
  2. Guilt you say ? My failure to get you to that Cubs chess tournament on time resulting in your dismissal before moving even a teeny weeny pawn still haunts me. But not a word of reproach from you.

     
  3. At least you didn’t actually get in the bin. How did you get out from under the stairs without him noticing? I’m sure it’s normal to have to do these things to kids, they do come up with the weirdest things in the first place! Hopefully him being more attentive and liking you more will be the start of things to come! #kcacols

     
  4. LOL. Poor thing thinking he had put Daddy in the bin. Have to admit I have used guilt trips before, but not quite like this lol.
    #KCACOLS

     
  5. Guilt trip? maybe. However I do think little ones need to learn what they’re words mean and how to use them appropriately! so it seems this method has been quite effective. How did you come out from under the stairs though? didn’t he notice?! #KCACOLS

     
  6. Haha! Awesome. I think you should use this incident further to your advantage. Next time you come in from work, place a few strategic banana skins and soiled tissues about your person and tell him that you have already been sitting in the bin for some time to save him telling you to. I enjoyed this a great deal 🙂 #KCACOLS

     

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