Last week, my two girls had the silliest fight. They were trying to wrestle an old and plain plastic stool away from each other. Both girls wanted to sit on it. Reese would sit on it. Cate would shriek in anger, and pull the stool away. Then, Cate would plunk her fat bottom down on the stool, and Reese would growl at her.
It was silly, and quite funny. But I remembered I was Mommy, and decided to intervene. “Reese and Cate, you have to learn to take turns. Okay, Reese, you will sit on the stool for 10 counts. Then, it’s Cate’s turn.” Of course, neither child understood nor wanted to comply.
“Reese, you go first. Sit for 10 counts. 1…2…3…” When I was finished counting, Reese refused to budge. I got her out, and Cate gleefully sat on the seat. “Cate, now your turn. 1…2…3…” Cate likewise refused to move when her turn was up. I had to repeat the exercise. “Reese, your turn…” “Cate, your turn…” Whew!
After a few turns, both girls gave up and abandoned the stool. The plain old stool was way more interesting when they could fight about it. When Mommy stepped in, the thrill for them was gone. Regardless, the Mommy hoped her chubby-cheeked daughters learned even just a little bit about taking turns… and living together.