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 by saying: ‘Yuck, I don’t like it. I won’t eat this!’
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!’
Now the stakes are really high! What should I do? I decide to follow him, and raise the stakes one more time: ‘Agreed, you’ll never eat again!’
And self-satisfied I lean back in my chair, thinking: ‘There! That should 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 decide to take a risk, and raise the stakes one more time.
‘Alright! Would you like me to get your coat?’
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…