Logical Parenting

Last night, Big D smacked Smella.  They were playing in his bedroom when, according to Big D, SHE RIPPED HIS HAPPY MEAL BAG.  I don’t know why he was keeping an old McDonald’s bag in his room nor can I imagine why damaging this bag warranted physical retaliation.  Nevertheless, I sat him down in his room and we talked about it:

Me:  “So why’d you hit her?”

D:  “Because she had my bag and she ripped it.”

He displayed the evidence.  The bag had a two inch-long tear in it.

Me:  “Okaaaay, so why did you leave the bag out where she could get it if you didn’t want her playing with it?”  (Oh snap, you’ve got him now.)

D:  “I didn’t.  She grabbed it out of my hands!”

Me:  (Dammit, he’s good.  Okay, okay, regroup.)  “Well, if you wanted to fix the problem of her grabbing the bag, you should have just taken it back from her.”  (Logic.  Nice touch.)

D:  “Okay.”

Me:  “And if you wanted to fix the ripped bag, then you should have used tape.  Hitting people doesn’t fix problems.”  (Oh yeah, I’m on a roll now.)

D:  “Okay.”

Me:  “Go tell her you’re sorry.”  (Goddamn it, Gump! You’re a goddamn genius!)

D:  “Okay.  And Daddy?  You’re the greatest.”

Me:  “Thank you, son.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta go pat myself on the back for a while.”

I swear this actually seemed to work.  I was shocked.  I’ve never really tried the whole “logic” thing, having always relied on a combination of bemusement, rage, and Throttling a la Homer Simpson.  But I somehow stumbled onto a concept that was previously foreign to me–logical parenting.  Somebody should write this shit down.


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