So I’m not sure if this makes me a bad mom or not but last Sunday I stun-gunned my daughter. Before you dial 911 or disparage me on all social media let me explain. A bunch of us were at my sis-in-law’s house hanging out and enjoying a traditional Sunday Funday. She happens to sell Damsel In Defense products several of which are stun-guns in varying voltages, sizes and cool girly colors. We were discussing how Daughter #1 has a high pain tolerance and she decided it would be “fun” to get zapped. No one wanted to step up to the plate so I, being the good mom that I am and not wanting my “child” to be deprived of any life experiences, took the bull by the horns, bit the bullet and agreed to tase my baby with a 7.5 million volts of electricity.
After ascertaining that she had in fact emptied her bladder that day and positioning her over the sofa to cushion her in the likely event she lost control of her faculties, I was given a very brief tutorial on the proper technique― press the conductors against said person and click the switch. Now this stun “gun” is about the size of an iphone, (this one was a lovely shade of green, the same color as the witch from the Wizard of Oz) and only intended to scare and startle instead of maim and kill―okay, it’s supposed to hurt too. It sparked and sizzled like a bug zapper for giant, horn-rimmed mosquitoes and I wasn’t too keen on having my first born’s neurons and electrical system shocked into possible spasms.
She assured me she wouldn’t put me in a nursing home when I get old (well, maybe not those exact words) and absolved me of any blame if the pain turned out to be unbearable. Spectators readied their video devices. I took a deep breath and in one fluid movement touched the sparky end to her leg and pressed the trigger. It sparked. It sizzled. She screamed. She fell on the sofa. My heart flipped. Before I could berate myself for doing something so stupid, she jumped up laughing and said it didn’t hurt at all, it was just fear that made her scream.
Well, that made me feel a whole lot better. . .
I’m not entirely sure the stun-gun actually made contact with her leg but I wasn’t about to suggest we try it again. The rest of the evening was filled with laughter and fun and viewing funny/weird/unsavory YouTube videos― in other words― we had a great time.
As I think back on the whole episode I realize that tasing my daughter didn’t make me a bad mom. Us moms sometimes do questionable things to please our children. We constantly worry and fuss about our kids’ well-being even if our kids are all grown up. Oftentimes, it’s a thankless job and sometimes we wonder if we are raising our offspring to be independent, self-sufficient, citizens or needy, lazy, sociopaths. There are times, especially when they drive us crazy, when we want to chuck it all but we don’t because we love our kids. No matter what, we love our kids.
So no, zapping my daughter with her blessing doesn’t make me a bad mom. What makes me a bad mom is that . . . I kinda enjoyed it. . .