Tonight I reprimanded KO for touching something I told him not to touch. He hunched his little shoulders forwards, and went downstairs, singing sadly,
“My mummy doesn’t love-ove-ove me … even though I love-ove-ove her … My mummy doesn’t love-ove-ove me …”
Awhile later, he came back for a cuddle, still crying.
To comfort himself, he had picked up a jar of white sugar from downstairs. I was a bit concerned to see that, as his teeth were clean and it was bedtime. But I thought confiscating the jar outright might bring on hysterics. So I asked to have a look at the jar, took it, surreptitiously tightened the lid, and gave it back to him. Of course he tried to open it straight away, and dismayed said,
“Why can’t I open it??”
I told him that only grown ups could open that jar. He replied with a frown,
“But I could open it when I tried downstairs …”
I just said, “Hmmm … what a mystery!”
Good thing children are easily distracted.