It’s true what they say; power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Let me tell you why.

First, go read what happened this weekend on my other blog over at urbanmoms.ca.

Now, let me introduce you to the face of facism in my my house this week (and for the next few weeks to come):

Yes, Girl2 broke her leg. It was ugly. There was a little bit of blood. There was a lot of pain. There was a nine-hour wait in emergency. And there was a lot of sympathy from Mom, Dad and Girl1.

After being discharged, the morphine wore off; and before the codeine took effect, there were two half-hour bouts of crying, screaming pain, which I could do nothing about, except hold her hand, stroke her hair and finally, turn my head away so she couldn’t see my own tears. My poor, broken baby…hurting so badly.

And then she woke up the next morning while I was on the phone with my sister, and Girl1 said, “Mommy, Girl2 is awake and she’s crying!” I dashed in. “Mommy! I’m hungry! Bring me food!” The transformation was complete. Girl2 had become Genghis Khan.

What has ensued is two days of being at her absolute beck and call. Leave the room long enough to pee? No way! Speak to a concerned aunt or grandmother on the phone for more than 30 seconds? Unthinkable! Noooo…my sole purpose in life, evidently, is to attend to her every whim. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m happy to care for her. Meals, medication, entertainment, even personal care (she can’t get to the toilet, so the night-time pull-ups are making a daytime comeback). But honestly!

I’m so thrilled that her pain has abated. I never want to see one of my children suffer like that again. Ever. Now, happily, her two main complaints are itching and boredom, and it’s the latter that I’m expected to fix, often and enthusiastically.

We’ve watched movies for hours, played every board game in the house and even borrowed games from friends. We’ve played Go Fish until I thought the cards might wear out, and I even let her play with the phone this afternoon, calling our home number and leaving me “voicemails” which I later had to play on speakerphone. And heaven forbid I press 7 instead of 9 to delete the message instead of saving it. *sigh*

I do feel sorry for her. Poor thing has to stay laid out on her back with her leg elevated for at least one more day – we don’t go for our follow-up visit at the fracture clinic until Thursday morning. On the other hand, I’m not sure how much longer I can handle her totalitarian rule. She has become totally imperious: “Mommy! MOMMY! Bring me a snack! Get me a drink! Play with me! Give me the phone! Give me your laptop!”

But still. Poor thing. Poor little Genghis Khan.