Life with my son Ot who is ten, is like an endless game of poker: who has the best pokerface, and who will fold first?
Take dinner for instance.
Ot will start the game
And then I will say: ‘I’ll see you, and I’ll raise you to: ‘Fine! No Hannah Montana for you tonight!’
Then Ot ups the stakes by stating:
‘Then I will never eat again. Ever!’
‘Agreed, you’ll never eat again!’
That’ll teach him!
But Ot has nerves of steel, and never loses his pokerface. Again he raises the stakes, this time by saying: ‘Then I will leave, and never come back!’
I feel small drops of nervous sweat gathering on my forehead: what to do? Never before did I come up against such a strong player!
I’m raising the stakes one more time
Then Ot gets up from the table. ‘Yes thank you!’
And that’s when I know I’m beat, and I fold like a cheap lawn chair. So I say: ‘Ot put your coat back, and finally eat your dinner!’
And then the game starts all over again…