Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Calling It

Conor and Lucy have recently been playing a game where they vie to be the last one to brush their teeth. As we head upstairs to start the bedtime ritual, Conor will typically yell, "Lucy brushes first!". (No one wants to say, "I'm last!")

The other night Lucy beat him to it as she went upstairs first, and Conor confronted her and she reiterated, "I called it. You're first." He couldn't argue with that logic, so Plan B was apparently to play on my sympathies so he burst into tears. "She ah-ah-ah-always b-b-b-b-bosses me around". Telling him that he lost, fair and square, at his own game was cold comfort, so I didn't say anything and gave him a hug. He took that as encouragement, that his tactic was working, so he escalated his complaints--Lucy always wins, Lucy always gets her way, etc.

And this is where I win the bad parenting award for the night. I told him to brush his teeth with his tears.


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