The definition of honor

The XX Tax Deduction is 5 and in kindergarten.  All day.  She has an account she can use to pay for her breakfast and lunch, and we just put money in it from the web.  Nifteee. Yet…she comes home every day and says, “I’m STARVED!”  Oh, really?  Have a snack.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, we found out she’s been throwing her entree in the trash wholesale.  Every day.  And she’s starved when she comes home from school?  Well, lemme tell ya.  Two parental unit heads blew up. So.

We cut her off.  Now, she’d been begging to let her take lunch to school in her nifty Dora lunch box (not a real one, just a little play tin thing), but we wouldn’t let her.  So we knew that sending lunch to school with her would be no punishment.  But…she loves having breakfast at school and always eats all of it.

Bye bye school breakfast. That made her howl.

Bye bye school lunch, bye bye Dora tin-with-a-handle thing, bye bye hot variety.

Today is day 5 of bologna-and-cheese-on-white-with-Miracle-Whip, cheese cubes, and a bag of carrots. In a brown paper bag. Welcome to my childhood, kid, enjoy.  She was forbidden to try to access her account and she was told to bring home whatever she didn’t eat. Today is also day 5 she didn’t eat her lunch and brought it home, ate it after school because she was STARVED and wasn’t allowed anything else until she did.

Except today… Her current best friend had his birthday party, for which his mother brought the class pizza for lunch.  Since we had not anticipated such a thing happening, we didn’t tell her she could eat whatever was brought as a treat.

Even though she loves pizza above all other foods and it broke her heart to watch the other kids eat, she didn’t have any.

Because we told her she had to eat the lunch we gave her and nothing else.

10 thoughts on “The definition of honor

  • February 14, 2009 at 7:19 am
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    Ugh, I hate those fights. I have one that’s just as stubborn, I feel your pain.

    But, you gave her a coookie for that, right? Cause most kids would have eaten that pizza and never thought twice.

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  • February 14, 2009 at 8:31 am
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    Being a step dad, I skipped ahead. I missed the kindergarden issues and went straight to the girl totaling the car.

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  • February 14, 2009 at 9:47 am
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    Eva, yes, she got cookies and she got a good gushing-over. She’ll be getting pizza for lunch today.

    Philip, please! Don’t jinx me!!!

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  • February 14, 2009 at 10:53 am
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    Dude felt horrible upon learning that TD1 (is that like being QB1?) sat and watched the other kids in her class eat pizza. Talk about mixed feelings.

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  • February 14, 2009 at 5:46 pm
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    Half of me is thinking that’s the sweetest thing and she deserved two cookies, and the other half is thinking, so why can’t she just obey when you tell her to eat the entree. Complicated little fiends, aren’t they?

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  • February 15, 2009 at 9:51 am
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    Actually, I don’t understand it, either. My breaking point was when I found out the school was serving macaroni and cheese with Li’l Smokies and she dumped the WHOLE THING. I mean, c’mon. It’s not like they were trying to get her to eat broiled salmon and caviar.

    It’s the little things that make you go nuts. When she was born, I was sitting there wondering how to protect her from pedophiles and bad boys, and now she’s 5 and I’m just trying to figure out how to keep her from starving herself to death because she doesn’t like what she’s given.

    And it ain’t Brussels sprouts.

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  • February 15, 2009 at 10:21 am
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    Dude wouldn’t eat Brussels sprouts if you paid him, nor on a bet. Blech!!

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  • February 16, 2009 at 12:02 am
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    I’ve had a some experiences like that (not exactly the same, but along similar lines) with my young-uns, especially the little lass, who is now 7 and has always been more self-reflective than her older brother.

    Kinda breaks your heart and makes you proud at the same time, doesn’t it.

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  • February 16, 2009 at 10:51 am
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    Yeah, it was wonderful and horrible at the same time. Very bittersweet.

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  • February 16, 2009 at 4:02 pm
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    Possible encouragement for the future:

    My son would turn up his nose at anything that wasn’t peanut butter or Kraft Mac & cheese (not mixed together, though) until about a year ago. He’s 14 now and will eat anything (except for brussel sprouts) that isn’t nailed down.

    So, there’s hope.

    Reply

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