Choices... what a beautiful thing it is, having choices.
The other day, I was working in my office and I could hear Sassy upstairs giving Tyler a hard time. He was asking her to do something, and she was choosing not to comply with his request. I can't even remember what it was about, to be honest.
After several requests, chances, disregards, what have you, I heard Tyler tell Sassy that she had to choose a toy to put on time out for the rest of the day.
Not exactly my go-to method of discipline (been there, done that), I was highly anticipating what her choice would be, and at the same time completely unwilling to step in and disrupt this master plan.
Oh, but have no fear, he did set forth a caveat: it had to be something she liked.
Can I get a doors wide open, windows ajar, parental wherewithal flapping in the breeze?
...break me off a piece of that kit-kat bar.
Moving right along.
Sassy proceeded to go into her room, survey her belongings, and make the tough choice of which item to give up for the rest of the evening. Tall orders for a 4-year-old...
...except when said 4-year-old is way wittier than her Daddy-O.
So, aren't you dying to know what Sassy chose?
Why, her blue Buddha statue, naturally. I mean, clearly that was the choice that would have the most negative impact on the rest of Sassy's evening. How ever could she go on? What sacrifice.
Mom & Dad- 0.