Along the watchtower
“Can we stop at Blue Cow on the way home?” Brenna asks.
“No.” Twelve dollar frozen yogurts aren’t in the cards this close to bedtime. She waits a few minutes and asks the same question (kids!).
“No, but maybe we can stop for something at Albertsons on the way.”
“Okay,” she allows.
Then Jessica calls to say dinner is on the table. “We’re just now on our way,” I tell her.
“I have news you won’t like,” I warn Brenna because I know how this goes. “Mom has dinner ready so we’re going straight home.”
Then begins tears, yelling, “but you said …” and I decide to bring out the big gun, effective because I only use it every month or two: I speak loudly. She immediately stops crying and is cheerful the rest of the night. Sometimes they just want to know the boundaries are still there.