Sibling love and other Things I tried (and failed) to teach my kids


So we are on our way back from grocery shopping. Which is always the time when the offspring are Least Likeable. I know you thought about that your own kid’s LL moment didn’t cha?

They are in their finest cranky, squabbling, kinda-tired but kinda-wanna-run-down-the-road-unattended moods.

We get home, where I can finally ignore them in peace. I fix them a snack and proceed to unpack the groceries. I come back 5 minutes later and they are fighting over the last slice of Apple. You have got to be kidding me, kids.

So I think okkkaaaayyyy…(deep breath)…try and be the mythical gentle parent for once. This could be our little learning opportunity of the day. And I gather the kids around me, with as much as love as I can muster on Grocery Day.

Ryan, Steve is your brother, so listen to me ..LISTEN“, I say as I try and block a blow aimed at Steve’s head.

Listen, what does being a brother mean? What should you be doing with that apple slice?

And I look meaningfully at the apple.
Correct answer : SHARING

Ryan pauses. I can see a light bulb switch on in his head.

It means …” DRUM ROLLS ……. “It means that I can call Steve a piece of smelly poo on a stinky pizza slice ANY time of the day…..hahahaha…NA-NA-NA-NA-NA

And with a flourish he grabs the last apple slice and eats it. I hear Steve’s war cry as he lunges towards his brother with a kick and I make my exit.

Nailed it, I think. The kick, I meant. The sharing lesson, not so much .

 

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