Monday, March 23, 2009

'fessing up don't always fix it, sister.

Last weekend Daddy was out of town, leaving me and the girls.

The first tactical error was thinking that I could buy myself some Me Time on Friday night by setting my daughters up in our bedroom with a movie. My vision included them falling asleep mid-film. I would just crawl into bed later and join the slumbering angels, their little innocent countenances glowing in the light of the TV screen, credits rolling.

Nothing doing. When the movie ended at 10PM they were wide awake, overtired, and DEMANDING. Little C insisted on staying in my bed. Kindergartner M preferred sleeping in her own bed, but didn't want Little C sleeping in ours without her. There was arguing, fit throwing, threats, crying, and finally...sleep. Husband absent, I kicked myself in bed for piss-poor planning and unrealistic expectations.

Curiously enough, everyone appeared cheerful in the morning. Kindergartner offered to make Breftist. All By Herself. Great! says me. And sister liked the idea, too.

Breftist comprised bowls of blueberry yogurt and untoasted English muffins slathered with strawberry jam, served up at the little table in the kitchen. Little C ate her muffin and licked her bowl. Big Sis? Not so much. The Breftist she put together apparently wasn't her favorite. I asked her to please finish the yogurt she so generously served herself.

She balked. "But I don't like that kind," she whimpered.

"Well, honey, you chose it. I'd like you to eat it. You may have something else when you finish your yogurt."

She pouted. Stared at her yogurt. Stirred it around in her bowl. I grew bored of the drama and left the kitchen. Five minutes later she declared herself done. I verified her empty bowl and morning pastimes resumed.

About twenty minutes later she appeared at my side, Little C trailing behind.

"Mama, I need to tell you something." She hung her head and shook it regretfully.

"Uh oh," I predicted. "What happened?"

"Well, you know when I finished my yogurt?" I nodded. "Actually, I made my sister eat it."

I looked at Little Sister. She nodded gravely. "Did you eat your sister's yogurt?"

She grinned and rubbed her tummy. "Can I have more?"

Oh for heaven's sake.

"See, Mommy? She liked my yogurt."

"Yes, but, you knew that was wrong. And while being honest about it later is commendable, we still need to work on not doing the naughty thing in the first place, right?"

Yeah, yeah...whatever you say, Mommy. Can I have a snack?

2 comments:

kris said...

Your kids should be running the country...

me said...

At least the yogurt found a good home, I usually find the unwanted food wedged under a carseat or booster days or weeks later when I'm searching for the culprit of the horrible aroma in my car. Urgh!