Ice Cream and Manipulation

Mamma, do you like Ice Cream?

This was the start of the Lollygagger's new conversation one afternoon, which was intended to ultimately gain her a large and flavorful bowl of the substance she covets so much.

Do I like Ice Cream? Hum. I will have to be careful how I answer such a loaded question. You see, the Lollygagger’s Daddy and I own two businesses, one of which happens to be an Ice Cream Shop. It’s one of those things where we liked Ice Cream in the beginning, but over seven years of unlimited access to any flavor of Ice Cream we choose, we lost our love for the creamy, tongue-numbing stuff.

Her question, which seems innocent on the surface, is as loaded and a calorie filled Twinkie. If I say “yes” she will then suggest we eat a large bowl of it immediately. If I say no, she will then begin to offer suggestions why she should eat a large bowl of it immediately.

What’s amusing to me is her choice of tactics to gain this particular afternoon snack. If it were a bowl of berries, or a Navel Orange, she would have just asked for it. But she’s after sugar, which means I might say no.

Where do children learn the art of manipulation, anyway? How is it that a five year old can spot the potential benefit of bending a conversation to suit her wants and will? How has she learned to master this thing at such a young age?

I don’t like to think of myself as a Master Manipulator, but I have been known to display the same behavior in gaining agreement in such things as, getting a new kitten, or adding a deck to the house. Though I thought I was covert and slick enough to get away with this behavior, it’s become clear that the level of transparency is visible to a five year old, but doesn’t seem to have the same opaqueness with her Daddy, who gives me the world on a platter.

It never occurred to me that the sole reason for my existence is to be a bad example to others. All this internalizing over the simple question, “Mamma, do you like Ice Cream”?

What will happen to my deviant behavior toward my unsuspecting husband? Should I come clean? Admit to him my manipulative tactics? Become the person I want my Lollygagger to be?

… hum.

No, I think not. Instead, I will ensure she is not in the room at the time of such conniving pursuits. Why spoil a good thing?

Cheers