Two weeks ago on a Friday morning, I caught Ricki heating up two (!!) soy patties. I told her I didn’t allow, but she choked them down so fast that there was little I could do.
Than, a half hour later I caught her eating a THIRD one.
“OK, Ricki, you KNOW that I don’t allow, and you took anyway. Tonight at the Shabbas evening meal you can have bread and salads, but you will not receive any chicken.”
She looked quite unperturbed about the whole thing, but by the afternoon her tune was changing. She started grilling me periodically about whether or not she would be receiving chicken that evening, and ascertaining that the punishment would not extend to the noonday meal Saturday as well. I, meanwhile had hid the meat for both meals well in the recesses of the refrigerator.
By the time we sat down for the evening meal Ricki was well aware that I was sticking to the punishment, and she accepted it gracefully.
Fast-forward to today.
Yesterday Ricki had asked me to buy her some miniature popsicles, which I agreed to, as long as she asked permission before taking one, and if she threw the empty wrappers in the trash. Within less than 24 hours she broke both conditions. The second she left the house for school I took the box of ices, wrapped in a black bag, and stuffed it behind some other items in the freezer, where I know she won’t look for them.
Mommy says what she means, and means what she says.