Like a bat mitzvah, but they're 3 and 5 and Norwegian.
It began with me telling the Little One "No". A grave crime ...
Dislikes include: The "B" word*; any food that is not bread, "milky", or fruit; and being told "No".
Sorry. I know it's a really offensive slur in the three-year-old community.
First, she sticks her bottom lip out while glaring at you.
Second, the lip begins to wobble.
Then, she bursts into tears. Imagine how you would cry if masked men were dragging your family off into the night.
Punch Girl eats everything. Little One eats two bites of everything and wanders off. Later, Punch Girl returns for toast.
This is where the crying happens.
It is also the moment my children discovered their powers.
Punch Girl: "But she's CRYING."
Me: "I know. But she needs to learn that the rules don't change because you cry."
Punch Girl: "Can I tell her something kind?"
Look at this kid. She's so great.
Punch Girl: "Little One? I'm sorry you're sad. I think Mommy should give you some toast."
And then, I shit you not, they both turn their heads to look at me in unison, like I've raised them in a cornfield. And they stare me dead in the eyes.
My children joined together to weaponize kindness in a passive-aggressive stare down over food. I may as well give them the family hotdish recipes & send them into the world. I have nothing left to teach them.