Or at least try not to. It seems that at 2 years and 2 months, the battle is beginning to heat up.
False promises are made...
National Leader: If I let you have one more cookie, will you stop crying?
Terrorist: I promise!
National Leader: OK, here you go.
Terrorist: More cookie! *Anger and Tears*
Secretive Tactics are used to gain the upper hand...
National Leader: I want you to finish all your broccoli.
Terrorist: Mmmmm, bwok-wii.
The nation drops is guard, but soon re-engages the enemy.
National Leader: Ahh, good you've eaten it all. You can get down from your chair now.
The terrorist smiles deceptively. Released from captivity, she waits until she's almost out of sight to pull up her shirt and allow a mother lode of bwok-wii to spill to the floor, rewarding her canine minions...
Fierce battles are fought, with little to no territory gained on either side...
National Leader: I just want to change your diaper!
National Leader: I'm not kidding you better come over here right now!
Terrorist: (throwing everything within reach off her bed onto the floor) No! No! No! Arrrrrggghhhh!
National Leader: OK if you don't come over here right now I'm going to
Terrorist: (screaming and crying) No way! (Jumping up and down.)
A valiant battle is waged by both sides, and in the end, once the diaper is changed, both sides forget the whole thing.
If you're not with us, you're against us...
Allied Nation: Sabrina do you want some ice cream?
National Leader: Mom, you just gave her a cupcake.
Allied Nation: I know but she likes ice cream.
Terrorist: Eye Keem! Eye Keem! (Jumping up and down with glee.)
National Leader: No, you're not having ice cream you still have frosting on your cheeks from the cupcake.
Allied Nation: Oh just let her have a little.
National Leader: She doesn't need it. And how come we could never have cupcakes and ice cream when we were little?
Allied Nation: (Lying through her teeth) Oh you kids got everything you wanted. (To Terrorist) Chocolate or Strawberry?
Terrorist: Yippie whoo hoo horray!*
National Leader: Sigh.
* I have no idea where she got that from...
In the heat of battle, true loyalties emerge...
National Leader: No, and you better stop screaming.
Terrorist: No no no no! (Starts banging her tricycle against the front door)
National Leader: OK that's enough where do you think you're going?
Terrorist: G'ama house! (crying) G'ama house!
National Leader: Good go to Grandma's house! It's not so great I grew up there you know. They're fooling you! I don't know who those people are that replaced my parents but move in and everything changes. Ice cream and cupcakes will disappear and you'll be doing dishes and vacuuming in no time with zero privacy... (trailing off into territory only a trained therapist is qualified to tread on...)
Terrorist: (The terrorist has heard only two words, stops crying and says) Eye Keem?
National Leader: No, you're certainly not getting ice cream!
Terrorist: (screaming louder than ever) Arrrgh! Eye Keem! Eye Keem!
National Leader: Ugh...
The war will be long, and there will be casualties. Eventually justice will prevail. But we must be ever vigilant. Pick our battles wisely. And above all, realize the scorched earth policy of the terrorist will leave no furniture undamaged, electronic devices soaked in apple juice, and car keys slipped into the kitchen trash can when no one is looking. Yes it will be a battle for our very souls, and we will fight on, only giving up when we realize it will be the terrorist who will some day choose our nursing home...
The terrorist has won...