Our match went something like this. Mommy in one-corner. Tired, but stubborn preschooler in the other. I swung in with the medicine spoon. She came in with a hook-swing "spit out the medicine move" (usually reserved for Daddy.) I came back strong with a time out, but she didn't give in there. Just when I thought I had worked her into a corner, she broke out the "I'm going to throw up." Yep. While this isn't one of my patented moves, I can thank my little sister for prepping me for this one (she used it plenty in her glory days.) I was ready and stared her straight in the eyes. "Throw up and you'll clean it up yourself." Out of timeout she jumped and off to the bathroom she went, OK RAN.
Round one, TIE.
Back for round two, she tried calling in backup by using her banshee scream and waking up her little sister. That is when my backup came in and threatened her life if she woke her little sister. Round two, Parents.
Round three had an intense start. More screaming ensued, and in the Rieske household the only place screaming is aloud is in the backyard, otherwise you are breaking a house rule. So, I summoned up my remaining strength, and lifted her writhing body, and set her on the picnic table out back (I'm sure the neighbors think we're crazy.) And she was almost down for the count. Faked, yes, FAKED an apology, but soon after being let back in the house, insisted that she wanted Daddy to get her ready for bed. So, after a nice authoritative talking to from Daddy (brought on after pep talk from mommy) about how mean she was being to her competitor and how would she like to be treated that way, etc. etc. I had a very sorry little girl at my leg BEGGING to just please let us be a family forever and promising that she would never, ever be that mean again. The smell of victory was in the air. Round three, Parents.