Gimme, gimme, gimme...

This afternoon, Hannah (the mother's helper extraordinaire) and I took the three girlies on an outing to the mall. Not just for something to DO, mind you-- I had been actively looking for a specific piece of computer software, and had phoned ahead to secure that a copy of it was waiting for me in one of the stores. The girlies were game to get out of the house for an hour or so, and piled into the Loser Cruiser in an agreeable and orderly fashion.

I should have known better than to think that their pleasant demeanor would last longer than the car ride... Because their very finest Whine-and-Beg Act began like clockwork, as soon as we crossed the threshold of the shopping centre. They wanted every single toy they saw in the shop windows we passed, and they were apparently fully prepared to harangue me until I agreed to acquire them.

Now, allow me to clarify something. These are by no means deprived or even remotely hard-done-by children we're talking about here. My three girlies have an immense playroom, the contents of which rival the stock of our local Toys-R-Us and Mastermind, COMBINED. I assure you, there is nothing left on this planet for them to pine FOR, as they already own some sort of variation of every possible type of play-thing available on the common market.

However, this did not stop them from whinging and cajoling me throughout the entire expedition, INCLUDING during the short period of time that I was ripping a computer-store salesperson a new arsehole, as the software he had assured me was in stock when I had spoken to him on the telephone exactly one hour before was NOWHERE to be found once I actually set foot in the store...

The begging continued as we made a top-speed bee-line back to the car, and continued even as I made my way out of the parking lot...

Finally, about half-way home, I had had enough. My many versions of answering with a NEGATIVE response had been completely exhausted. I was not prepared to expound upon the multitude of reasons behind my answer any longer. In short, The Goddess' patience snapped.

I pulled the loser cruiser over to the side of the road, turned around in my seat, and faced The Progeny:

Mother: (with more than a hint of hysteria) Right!! Fine!! I give in, YOU WIN!! You may have it all-- everything you want!! I'll just hand my bank and credit cards over to YOU all, and you can spend as MUCH money as you like on TOYS!! Forget about food or clothing, because you'll be MUCH to busy playing, right? And of course, your Dad and I won't be around, because we won't be able to pay our bills or our taxes, and that's what HAPPENS to people who don't pay their bills and taxes... But HEY, whatever makes you guys HAPPY!!

Child Number Two: (suddenly panicked, turning to her older sister) Would Mum'n'Dad go to JAIL?!

Child Number Three: (ecstatically) DAT'S okay!! HANNAH can look after us!!

I. Give. Up.