Andrea and I were sitting in the living room this evening talking while the kids banged around and screamed upstairs. Suddenly Clara came flying out of her bedroom, bounced off a wall, and appeared triumphantly at the top of the stairs. “Guys! We are playing Fun Kill!” she announced, with her hands on her hips. “Here’s how it work-”
But she was interrupted by her mother, who had sent her and her sister upstairs to change their clothes several minutes ago. “Clara, why are you not in pajama’s yet?”
Clara sputtered and dropped her hands off her hips.
“Stop. You turn around and you go back into your room and you change into your pajamas. When your mom and dad tell you to do something, I expect you to do it. Not when you feel like it. Not when you get around to it. But right when we tell you.”
“No buts! It is too late at night for you guys to be playing games and tearing apart my house. We have things we want to do in the morning and you had better get into bed now or you are never going to want to wake up in time for us to go do them.”
“Yes, Momma,” the girl spun in a circle and dove back into her bedroom.
I exchanged a look with my wife.
“Why are you laughing,” she asked.
I shook my head and stood up. “I’m not laughing at you. That was fantastic. Thank you for doing that. But, If you will excuse me, I’m just going to run upstairs quick and figure out what ‘Fun Kill’ is.”