I had just sent Jason to the store to pick up some tortilla chips for the chicken chili I was making. While waiting, I put the chili ‘accessories’ (I have a real problem with the word ‘fixings’) on the table – grated cheese, sour cream and salsa. My oldest was already sitting at the table, waiting. Hungrily.
‘Remember, you’re not allowed to nibble on the cheese,’ I reminded him. He is a nibbler par excellence. ‘I know,’ he replied and I went back in the kitchen to tend to the food.
About three minutes later, I heard G talking in a rather loud voice: ‘Grandma, you’re not allowed to eat the cheese. Mommy said we’re not supposed to nibble the cheese.’
He wasn’t content to stop with a personal rebuke, or the possibility that I might have overheard the conversation. He ran into the kitchen to tell me, to my face: ‘Mom, grandma ate the cheese!’ In a tone of voice that suggested someone had severed a finger in the dining room.
Grandma was a little embarassed at being caught and I was a little embarassed at my backfired attempt to keep my boy’s fingers out of the cheese.
This parenting stuff, it always comes back to bite you…….