Conversations with Bean and Gracie,  Parenting

Teaching My Son Not to Share

“Mom!” said Bean.  “I LOVE MY TREAT CUP!”

“I’m so glad, Beanie!”

“I just love my treat cup so much!”

“Good, Beanie!  That’s so great!  You’re such a big boy!”

“See?  I just stick my hand in there and – BAM! – I pull out a Goldfish!”

“Here, I’ll bring it over to you and show you how it works…”

“Whooooooaaa!  I’m going down!  I’m going down!”

“Geez, Mom,” said Beanie.  “You’re not even gonna put down the camera?”

“I think you got it,” I said.  “I have faith in you.”

“My life just flashed before my eyes, Dude.”

“Oh, but look!” said Bean.  “A Goldfish fell out!”

“Oh, hey, Lucy,” said Bean.  “Do you want a Goldfish?”

“No, Beanie,” I said.  “We don’t give food to the dogs.”

“Don’t be such a Debbie Downer, Mom,” said Bean.  “Here Lucy!”

“Bean!” I shouted.  “I said NO, SIR!”

“BEAN!  NO!” I shouted.  “We do NOT feed the dogs!”

“Geez, Mom…” said Bean.  “Don’t get your panties in a wad!”

Pssstt…here Lucy,” Bean whispered.

“That’s it, Beanie,” I said.  “I’m taking your treat cup away now.”

“But it wasn’t even my fault!” Bean whined.

“Well, whose fault was it?”

“It was Lucy’s fault!”

“Well, I’ll just hold on to this treat cup and then neither of you will be tempted,” I said.

“Oh, Mom,” said Bean.  “Can I please have my cup back?  Pu-pu-pu-please?”

“No, buddy,” I said.

“What if I get up in your face and make cute noises and blubber into your neck and bat my eyelashes at you?  Can I have it back then?”

“No.”

“You’re cold, Mom.  Real cold.”

27 Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *