It all started innocently enough. We were eating dinner – spaghetti, which if you’re counting is approximately the 7,345th time we have served this delicacy since children entered our lives, yet somehow they still don’t realize it’s not a finger food – when the topic of the girls’ gymnastics class came up. Last week, their behavior had been less than stellar and in fact had included direct disobedience of the teacher in full view of mom.
Mom remembered this at dinner before she took the girls to class. We were already a little on edge because of the aforementioned lack of knowledge of how to eat spaghetti and the messes that had been generated. Her reminder was to the point:
“Girls, you know how important it is to obey in class. You have to listen to what the teacher says. You will do what she says. You will not jump when she says to stop jumping. You will not run when she says not to run. You will obey.”
She was intense. Kids gradually quit chewing as her words sank in. Quiet descended on the previously rowdy kitchen.
“Remember, I can see everything that happens during class. I am watching. I am listening. If you disobey, I will see it. I will hear it. And I will find you.”
The silence was complete. Even the boys were chastened. There would be no disobedience.
All I could think of was this (minus his last line):