What a Treat

My kids are all about the treats. In theory, I am the kind of mother who would never use food as a punishment or a reward. In reality, it happens. They hit up one grandma for hard, fruit candies, from which Benjamin has been banned because he is a walking choking hazard, and the other grandma for Tic-Tacs, which they all call "orange pills." Another healthy habit. Benjamin is very interested in going on the potty chair these days, because, "den, we git some treats" or "neminems."

Due to the latest inane complication with construction on our street, Amanda's bus was unable to come down the road to deliver her home. This affected just Amanda and two other girls. We found this out about an hour before school ended, and I was at a loss for a solution, save waking up Ben from his nap and packing up everyone to pick her up at school. Finally, the bus company manager said, "Oh, I'll just take the shorty bus and pick up the girls and bring them home myself. I can park close to the road closure and walk them in." So, that's what happened. I met them across the street and said to Amanda, "Wasn't that exciting? You girls got to ride your own special bus." Amanda replied, "Yeah, it was cool. The bus driver was funny and all. But, you know what, Mom? On those little buses, I thought they'd serve little cookies."

Later, I was helping the girls get ready for bed (OK, I was screaming, "Get your pajamas on NOW" while their bare bottoms ran circles around me) and I noticed a stash on their bedroom floor. It was a pile of foam airplanes, stickers, candy, and the like, which I'm guessing were prizes from a birthday party or carnival that someone was saving for something. Anyway, I thought to myself, "Better pick that up before someone gets into it," and then I left to do something else. A couple minutes later, Elisabeth was whining she didn't get her candy bribe after taking her medicine; I had determined she was not getting a treat because she threw a fit about taking said medicine. I walked back into the bedroom and noticed shredded Tootsie Roll wrappers on the carpeting. "I guess you did have a treat," I said. "Who ate those Tootsie Rolls?" She stomped up and down that she hadn't done it, when Ben walked in, his mouth ringed in chocolate: "Me. I did it. Benny eat the Tootsie Rolls!"