It happened last night. I was trying to scan family pictures into the computer. Michelle had other ideas about what to do with the scanner. But then again, she always has other ideas. I suppose we could blame her seventeen-month old brain. Things are just more fun when you can bang on them, throw them, crawl on them and swing from them. She has learned this because she is the baby of the family. Eight people live here that are older than she is but she is the undisputed ruler of the household. She is and, emphatically stated by my wife, will always be, the baby in the family. Michelle knows how to get her way. She has it all worked out. Until last night, that is.
Michelle loves electronics – cell phones, iPods, remote controls, the keyboard and the mouse, she lives for it. Last night Michelle decided that she really liked the scanner and decided that she wanted to help me. This was problematic because she wanted to slap the glass and put fingerprints on it. And she liked to bend the photos. And she was pushing all the scanner buttons. Basically she was being a baby. I got her on the other side of the scanner where she couldn't reach, so Michelle decided that she really liked the USB cable and started hanging on it. And that is absolutely the best thing that you can do to end the life of a USB port.
"Michelle, stop!"
Giggle, giggle, giggle.
"Chellie! Stop it. Let go! Let go! You're going to break it!"
She thought it was a great game, and just look at the reaction she was getting out of daddy. I couldn't get it out of her fingers. She just grasped the cord harder and tried to hold it out of my reach. Normally that isn't a problem because she is seventeen months and not very tall. But now she was on the other side of the scanner and she actually had a reach advantage, or rather an out-of-reach advantage. She held the cord back at me to tease. She is really good at teasing. Just ask her four year old brother. But now she had made a fatal mistake. She was back in reach. Then an incident occurred which will live on in infamy in Doray family history. The Queen was accosted. I slapped her fingers. "Michelle, stop! Let go, now!" I pried the cord from her super-strength baby fingers.
There was a quick moment as a look of total shock went across her face. "What did you just do to me? I don't understand, how could you just hurt me like that?" Then the tears began to well up in her eyes and she intoned the most pitiful mourn of all time. Her world had just collapsed on itself. Innocence lost. Every eye in the room turned away from American Idol to me. The girls went into mama tigress mode. Glares present, you could sense the tension. Michael seeing his baby sister wailing started to cry, "Oh poor A-chelle, poor A-chelle, I sorry A-chelle, I sorry." Tears were running down his face. Now Michael was upset. He is Stephanie's favorite, her Shortie. Her eyes blazed. Gailyn tried to explain to him that sometimes mommies and daddies have to make their children mind them. He wasn't convinced that his baby sister should be subject to this rule. And from recent experience I'm positive that he isn't really familiar with the rule in regard to himself.
For Michelle's part, I can tell that she has inherited my genetic tendencies; she knows how to hold a grudge. Later on I tried to play with her. She gave me a smile then remembered that I had assaulted her royal person. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth tightened and she turned her head with an audible "hmmph." And she refused to look at me the rest of the night. If I tried to get in her line of vision she simply turned her head. I tried to make a game of it, play peek-a-boo, something. She wasn't playing any fun games with me. A lollipop was accepted but the giver not acknowledged. Hmmph!
When American Idol was over, the girls (and I mean the teenagers, 18 and 17 years old) got up and left the room without even a look in my direction. But I had the right, didn't I? I am her father. And this is my house. And after all, a man's home is his castle, right? That should make me the king. I guess not so much. Those days are over. At the very least I am currently a tyrant who must be endured. But again, these are my progeny; they may decide that they don't need to suffer my rule at all. I believe that an insurrection may have been incepted last night. I am looking for the diagrams plotting out the scheme. I checked all the nooks and crannies for pitchforks and torches – but they're pretty devious. I'm sure I won't see it when it comes.
So here I am. The girls haven't really talked to me since the incident of February 2010 as I'm sure it will come to be known. Well, except for Michelle. She has granted me special pardon. I can feed her goodies but I can't hold her yet. A coup d'état happened when I wasn't looking. The king is in the doghouse. And Michelle is back on her pedestal, loved and cherished by all. Down with the King! Long live the Queen! 
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