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I won't bore you with all of the gory details, but here's the back story. Mark and I spent at least two hours preparing dinner (roast, mashed potatoes, gravy). The peeps kept strolling through the kitchen, badgering us for something to eat. Badgering. Badgering, I tell you. We couldn't get dinner on the table fast enough. And when the food was served up, guess what happened. They. Wouldn't. Eat.
Peep #1 did a fair job, but she spent most of her time playing around, waving her fork full of roast and singing I'm A Little Snowflake at the top of her lungs. Just jimmy jackin' like the Queen of Jimmy Jackers.
Peep #2 nibbled on a bite of potatoes. That's it.
Like all good parents, we begged, pleaded, bribed and threatened. But the peeps were impervious to our efforts.
Well, mama don't play that. I looked at Mark and said, "I'll take care of this." I calmly stood up, picked up their little plates full of food, and placed them on the floor. Nixon, the dog, was in heaven. The peeps wiggled out of their chairs, chattering about what imaginary game they were going to play, thinking they were off Scott free. Uh, not so fast. Oh no. Mama wasn't done. I looked straight into their sweet faces and said, "Please get back into your chairs. Dinner isn't over. Mom and Dad haven't had dessert."
We had about 15 Hershey's Kisses left, and I ceremoniously dumped them onto the table, where they landed with a tiny thud in all their shiny, chocolately holiday glory. Mark and I proceeded to devour every. single. last. morsel. We slowly unwrapped each one, sniffed it, savored it and waxed poetic about how totally yummy it was in the tummy. The peeps went ballistic. They screamed, cried, and gnashed their teeth. They clawed at us and at the candy like zombies competing for the first bite at a brain buffet.
In a moment of desperation, I stooped to their level, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
Was it a moment of immature parenting? Yep.
Did it feel totally awesome to stick it to the peeps? Yep.
Was it an effective form of punishment? 100%, baby.
The ugly night continued to get uglier, but I will spare you the details and me the embarrassment.
Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, Keep It Real.