A few nights ago, my two-year-old and four-year-old were wrestling on the couch. They had been repeatedly warned to STOP, because Sadie, their infant sister, was lying on the floor close to them.
As Momma always said, “They kept on ’til somebody got hurt.”
Emma, my two-year-old, pulled Aubrey’s hair, so naturally Aubrey bit Emma to get her to release her grip. They were both disciplined.
I was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner and I heard Zeb consoling Aubrey. Emma was already over it. Zeb said “Aubrey, we only have ONE rule in this house…OBEY! That’s all you have to do!”
She said, still sobbing, “I know. There’s just something so good about being bad!”
We all fell out laughing.
The next morning while eating breakfast Aubrey said “Momma, renember why I bit Emma?” (That’s not a typo, she said renember.)
“Why?” I asked.
“I thought she was a chicken.”
Riiiiight.
