A thin line between triumph and tribulation

Johnny needed a bath yesterday morning - but he wasn't in the mood. At all. So I (ready to catch my train) got called in, and found him sitting on the sofa, uninterested in either persuasion or authority.

My efforts simply make him whine and wave his fists, but he holds off from hitting me (good start). I resist the probably futile and counterproductive temptation to drag him upstairs and offer him a hand to thump instead, providing some helpful martial arts grunts to add to the action. Several thwacks later and I see a smile, then hear a little "OK", so light I almost miss it.

Parenting, eh? Memo to self - rule 1: be there. Autopilot won't hack it.

And let's celebrate the occasional triumph - the tribulations can look after themselves...