The little boy was sick, since the begining of the week, Little Joe was sick. His stomach had hurt; he hadn't eat anything, he had to stay in the bed for the whole day Marie managed to put him into sleep or she asked him to play with his toys. and his mom came to help him live through it. She had prepared herself for a new battle of will, as Little Joe didn't want to take his medicine.
"you have too, Tresor, it will help you to recover. I'm sure, you want to be fine to go outside, playing in the snow, don't you.
-Yes ma. Wanna play with snow !; » The four year old just looked at her with joy in his eyes.
-you will, little boy. But first, you have to drink hot vervain and that powder. If you take the medicine dr Martin prescribed you, then I think you'll be feeling better in no time at all." » she replied and reached him the small mug.
A large grimace crossed Joe's small face at the word "medicine" and he started to complain and to protest :
- No, I won't , I won't."
Little Joe started to hit the cover with his little fists. His mother put the mug on the little table, he could have hit it and send it to the ground. She had to find some amusement because she had noticed, a tantrum was coming.
« Hey, you know what. I can bring your some paper and we'll do some stars; ok ?
« make fun, ma ».
-yes, my dear. That's great doing some ornements for christmas. Maybe we could sing ! So, first you drink this and then we'll do it. Now we have a deal ? »
The little boy nodded.
« What would you like to sing ?
« the one with joy and... don't recall it ».
« Joy to the world, mon petit. Maybe I could teach you a new one , it 's easy to sing. Maybe we could learn it now and sing it together for your papa ?
« Oh yes, ma ».
And very quickly Little Joe learned the lyrics of the song and he started to sing with a big pleasure « we wish you a merry christmas » while cuting some papers to do wings for the angel his mother had just made.
*************
« Just a little bit of potatoes, mon petit. »
-I don't like pota'oes Not good. Little Joe wants 'hocolat, please ma.
-No chocolate for sore bellies.
-Eat now, Little Joe.
- I won't, I won't , I wanna go out. Don't want to stay in bed »
Four years old little boy was struggling, screaming, kicking, he expressed his anger, his frustrations. he tried to go out but his mother had a firm grip on him. As a last ressort she gave him a single swat on the backside.
"I want you to stay in your bed ." She was not pleased with that kind of behavior, especially after lunch time. She hadn't been able to drink a coffee, because of the fight his boy had started.
Hoss was in the kitchen. He could hear the commotion upstairs. He couldn't believe that his baby brother had so much energy.
****************
Marie came down. She went to the kitchen. She wanted to have a well deserved cup of coffee.
« Ma, why baby brother do that ? , he asked.
-well, Imagine how you feel when you're determined to do something and aren't able to do it, no matter how hard you try, because you can't understand how. It's pretty frustrating, so your baby brother is feeling the same. He wants to play outside and I don't allow.
-You're right, not allowing, ma. He is a very sick little boy.
-thanks, mon grand. I'm very proud of you for supporting me. » she said putting her hand on Hoss shoulders. She appreciated the words. She was feeling a little bit guilty because of the swat she had to administer. She had tried to be patient but Little Tornado put her limits « behind endurance », Adam would have said.
*******
As Ben came into the bedroom, he saw his little boy laying on his stomach, asleep on his pillow, papers around him. Ben put his hand on nacked Joes foot, out from the cover. The skin was sweet. He put his lips on the little foot, trying not to awake him. Little Tornado was sleeping and he didn't want to wake him. Little Joe could be a big challenge, he knew it. Marie had already told him about the day and the many « I won't » from the day. He knew, he would have to « talk » to his little tiger, before timebed. Another conversation, the same he had the day before and the day before. Always the same talks the promise of « I won't do it again ». Never a chance that Little Joe would keep his promises. Ben was not sure, if words were able to go through his head. Maybe words could come close to his ear, but never came in. Unfortunately.
***********a few minutes later
« Hey baby, how do you feel ?
- Pa, Little Joe is not sick anymore. Want to play outside. Mama says, I can go when I'm fine. I'm fine so I can go.
-Oh no , you won't, young boy . Ben's stern look was supposed to stop Joe from further argument.
-But Pa », Joe complained.
-No pa, little boy. Or you'll be in big big trouble. Mama said, you were a naughty boy today, weren't you ? »
Little Joe didn't dare to nod. He looked rather at his feet and at his fathers boots.
« Little Joe, not naughty. » whispered the baby boy.
Blatant omission, thought Ben for himself, trying to hide a smile. His little boy just wanted things done his way and he just needed to accept the idea that he would never be allowed to be the boss in the house,
« Pa , can I go outside, touch my hands, they're warm enough. Pa, can I go ? »
Pa closed the conversation by showing his hands, explaining that « hand of mine is warm too and will warm your bottom if you don't stop that tantrum ». Little Joe's eyes widened when he saw he meant business and his lower lip poked out. But then, he sighed and stopped complaining ; the final argument worked instantly. The tantrum stopped immediately and a very contrite little boy came downstairs to apologize to his ma.