Laughter is the Best Discipline
The children said please and thank you when they ordered their meals at our favorite kid-friendly joint. The server smiled, impressed, and brought them extra bread and butter with their crayons and coloring pages. I held my breath as Bug slowly, carefully unwrapped the gold foil and slapped an entire pat of butter on her slice. As I reached to hand her the knife, she opened her mouth wide and ate the whole pat, right off the top. She looked up at her father as she did it, a grin playing around her little pink tongue. And he fell for it—hook, line, and sinker.
Bug is that kid who's always trying to get away with something. We have to watch her like a hawk near the holiday goodies because she'll sneak five cookies and hide under the table to eat them, her little feet sticking out the only evidence that something is amiss. When I asked my parents this year to put the tempting little candies out of her reach, she watched carefully, noting the location and elevation of each dish. As soon as grandpa had his back turned, she was dragging a chair over to the counter. Laughing, my father picked up the dish and held it higher. "Can I have a candy?" she asked him in corn syrup tones, her cheek pinned to her shoulder. She batted her eyelashes for good measure. "No," he chuckled. "But, Papa," she retorted, head now upright, eyes flashing. "Christmas is for GIVING."
Did you catch the humor in that? Everyone else in the room did. My husband? Not so much.
Bug is now biting the little crayon box because she can't get it open. He swipes it out of her hand and glares as he opens it properly. “Fank you, Daddy,” she smiles. She turns to her big sister and says something in her always-loud preschooler voice, right in Boo's ear. To which Boo replies with an even louder, "OW! Stop it!"Continued on the next page