Mei Mei - 1, Momma - 0

When we were little and would cry dramatically over something not really worthy of such a display, my mom would mimic us in a horrendously melodramatic manner. Usually, it was hilarious enough to distract us and get us giggling within seconds. Sometimes, the more stoic of us (umm, that would NOT be me) would not cave quite so easily and she'd take it up a notch.

It was just one of the MANY displays of my mother's creative skills of distraction that headed of the need for formal correction. She was a master. Still is, as many of the grandkids can attest.

I've taken many a page from her book over the last 19 years of parenting. I'd been thinking about this particular trick for quite a while. Searching for the key to breaking the mood that she myopically gets stuck in once this cycle starts. Wondering if it would work on her unusually single-mindedness. Waiting for the right moment to try it out on Her Royal Ridiculousness.

So the other night, when Mei Mei was in a ridiculously overtired state, being ridiculously melodramatic about every little bump and offense, with ridiculous amounts of wailing and (faux) weeping, I pulled out my trick.  

She came to me while I was prepping dinner, moaning pitifully and on the verge of bursting into great big crocodile tears over something of pathetic origins. For about the 79th time since nap time.

I scooped her up, held her close and started my own over-the-top version of her wailing and weeping. Loudly. Ridiculously dramatically.

She stopped. Stared at me in shock. Silent for oh, ...a millisecond.

And proceeded to mimic me. Mimicking her.

OMIGOSH. Seriously.

She clearly won that round. I lost the round. AND my composure.

Literally, I laughed till I cried.

Then I cried some more. It's official. All 6 of my kids are smarter than I am.