My husband and I are usually on the same page when it comes to parenting. What I say goes and that's that. I'm the better parent, we both know it. He sucks, I rock. I win. Except for when I'm drunk....errrr....
Sometimes my husband is on a different page than me though....in a completely different book. Like this weekend for example...
We were out camping with another family that have 2 girls, 7 and 3. All the kids, except for the smallest girl, were off riding their bikes all weekend. It was great, except the little one was getting quite upset that there was no one to play with or take her to the park. I asked my boys to please walk to the park ONE time with little Sally so she could go to the park with them. My youngest, much to my surprise, actually listened, parked his bike, and took little Sally's hand. My oldest, 7, argued with me about leaving his bike until I actually lost my freaking voice. I'm not kidding. At least 10 minutes of me threatening his appendages if he rode his bike to the park. I had finally had enough after I, seriously, couldn't vocalize another word. I looked at my husband and croaked to him that he needs to take over. This was the conversation after I sacrificed my vocal chords to make 7 leave his bike at the camp site:
Husband yells: Go to the damn park already.
5: We can't. 7 is on his bike.
7: I want to ride my bike
H: I don't give a shit how you get there, just go
7 proceeds to ride his bike to the park.
I couldn't even sort out my murderous, psycho, female thoughts. I just walked over to the trailer and found the sporks.