“Give those here.” I put my hands out for them. I stand there waiting for her to hand them over, but she just gives me an evil look.
“Eden, leave all the scissors alone… I’ll count them afterwards.”
She storms off to the playroom. Seems like I need to lock all sharp objects away from my daughter. Somehow, I can imagine Gemma doing the same thing when she was little. Now it is just the three of us, I decide to talk to Ace, but Gemma gets in there first.
“What’s wrong, Ace?” she asks, limping to get him a drink and some biscuits.
Something else I need to deal with—no snacks before dinner. She doesn't follow any instructions at all.
“Nothing.” He sulks.
She places a cup of milk and three biscuits in front of him.Three?
“He pushed someone over at school,” I tell her.
“Dad!” He looks up, blushing, then hides his face in his hands.
“Did they deserve it?” Gemma asks, her voice smooth and caring.
That’s not the question I was expecting her to ask. It’s not one I would have asked myself.
“Yes,” Ace replies, his voice just above a whisper.
“There you go, all good,” Gemma says with a wink, Making Ace look at her.
“Gemma, please. I’m trying to parent here.” I’m getting impatient with her and not getting anywhere with Ace.
“No, he said the child deserved it, end of story,” Gemma retorts.
We are going to have an argument any second now. She is being irresponsible again. I take a breath. “Ace, why did they deserve it?” I ask, trying to stay calm.
“No reason.” He sulks again.
“There must be a reason. You don’t just go around pushing people,” I say.
Gemma grumbles at me. Why is she huffing? What is wrong with the women in my life today?
“I’m sure when he wants to tell you, he will. Getting madat him won’t get you answers. If he said the boy deserved it, then he did,” Gemma offers.
“I wasn’t getting mad,” I growl. How am I the one in trouble?
“Tell your voice that,” she remarks, her tone snide.
“Ace? Why did you push him?” I ask again.
Instead of answering, he storms off, taking a biscuit with him. Gemma shrugs her shoulders.
“I’m trying to find out what happened,” I snap at her.
“You’re trying to blame him,” she argues back.
“I’m not. I want to know why Ace pushed someone. And no snacks before dinner.” I slam my hand down on the counter.
Gemma looks at me with a frown and then hobbles away, muttering to herself about men.
We don't speak much after dinner. Unbelievably, she is annoyed with me! She’s the one acting like a child. I decide to have it out with her when the children are asleep.
That, however, isn't easy. Getting them to sleep as they're both in moods takes the majority of the evening. I’m an hour later than normal, but I manage to get them off. Gemma is in the kitchen filming something for her social media. I don't want to disturb her until I hear her talk about Ace. She never speaks in her videos.
