WARNING: this post includes questionable parenting techniques
I heard it again this morning. The disdainful threat made by older sisters and snarky kinderteens everywhere: “Then you are not invited to my birthday.” This pesky little phrase has been making a comeback at our house lately to the great displeasure of the mama. I had asked Sis nicely to knock it off. I had even asked her not-so-nicely. So when I heard it again this morning, I decided it was time for a little love-and-logic boot camp.
I calmly informed the eldest that we were going to have an unbirthday party this afternoon to which she was expressly not invited. After the shock wore off, the sobbing ensued. The sobbing fit itself around tennis lessons, movie time, and lunch. When I got out the mixer and the cake box, I thought her eyeballs were absolutely going to pop out of her head. More sobbing. Then somewhere during the eighteen minutes is took the cupcakes to rise, she figured it out.
Leaving people out hurts their feelings. It’s just not cool.
She wrote a note to her brother who happily accepted, having forgotten the incident all together. Then she frantically ran around collecting and wrapping things we already own since every party needs presents.
We sang to ourselves. Stuffed our faces with chocolate frosting and sprinkles. Opened presents. All before 2:30. Good golly. What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?
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