Here Comes the Karma Truck

So. Things are going pretty well. Franny had her birthday and things have been fairly patched up around here…UNTIL. On Sunday Franny went out to practice devotional WASPishness with her father’s side of the family (tennis lessons) and I let Strudel watch a movie on her own, upstairs.

I heard some tiny elephant stamplings and didn’t think much of it, since Strudel does not have much of an attention span for TV and movies. I thought maybe she was taking breaks and coming back for more. What she WAS doing was breaking into the mints I bought Franny as part of her birthday present, and bolted about half of them in the time it takes to say, “Why did I not just buy a purse dog?”

Franny came home from rich white people church and went to her mints, and was very disappointed. She showed me the evidence and I tried to decide how to administer consequences. Strudel copped to doing it and I said, “Don’t steal from anyone. It makes people SAD AND ANGRY TO BE STOLEN FROM, right Franny?” Franny nodded slowly and I could see the wheels turning.

Tonight at dinner Strudel told us that the two youngest boys in her preschool class are looting her lunch for fruit every day. “They steal my BANANA every DAY!” she finished.

“And HOW does that FEEL?” I said, for what felt like the 50th time this week. “Did you feel SAD and ANGRY?” She nodded forlornly. “Well, that is how your sister felt when you stole her mints yesterday.” Again, the LOOK. Ohhhh.

Presumably if this trend continues a gang of wild weasels will come and nibble these fruit gafflers’ ears off, and then the weasels will be run down by an express bus, and so on.

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Monkey chow out.