Well, I’m not surprised, but the time has come for me to tell the story of ‘the Boy who Cried Wolf’ to my son. I’ve felt it coming for awhile now, actually. His crying out begs for me to come running at any time when he should be asleep. I have a soft heart and when I hear a certain cry, even though it seems manufactured to manipulate me, I fall prey. I can’t help it. My husband just laughs because he knows I’m being played!
As humorous as it can all be…..at times, I know that I need to nip his shenanigans in the bud. Why just yesterday, he woke up at 6AM crying in his bed. This is early for him; typically he sleeps in for a whole 30 additional minutes. If you’re like me, while 30 minutes isn’t that long, it can feel like a vacation when you’re trying to wake up, get something done, even sip a cup of coffee or take a quick shower.
Ok…back to the crying part…yes, he was wailing in his bed. So, I dash in to discern what the problem was and he claims his throat hurts and he coughs a productive cough. I admit, I felt sorry for him, scooped him up, changed his britches and brought him into the dark living room where my husband and I were ‘hiding out’ (I’m not kidding…this consists of all lights out in the room so as not to illuminate his room from underneath his door!) enjoying some quiet moments before the day rushed in.
It wasn’t 5 minutes later that he was snuggled up with his Daddy on the couch before he changed his sad little tune and exclaimed with a tinge of demand, “Want to play with that toy!” My once melted heart quickly hardened as I admonished him for tricking me into rescuing him from his bedroom. We had been to our local Goodwill the morning before and found a steal-of-a-deal on a cash register toy he’s been asking for. This is what he was coveting as he lay in his Daddy’s arms. Ergghhhh! I wasn’t amused. I’d been had! My husband had his number; he always has his number when it comes to this sort of thing.
The next thing I knew, I found myself googling the beloved fable, The Boy Who Cried Wolf. Surely to goodness you’ve heard this delightful story. I know if I heard it once, I heard it a thousand times over the course of my childhood:
This Aesop’s fable concerns a shepherd boy who repeatedly tricks nearby villagers into thinking a wolf is attacking his flock. When one actually does appear and the boy again calls for help, the villagers believe that it is another false alarm and the sheep are eaten by the wolf. The moral stated at the end of the Greek version is, “this shows how liars are rewarded: even if they tell the truth, no one believes them”.
I got a good chuckle out of the flashback to my own childhood days when apparently, I, too, was “crying wolf”. Without a doubt, I plan to read this story to my Little sooner than later. How can moments like this not make your heart a little lighter? Fighting back a giggle (albeit a stifled one) to keep from waking him, of course!