We have had a touch of the sassy molassys around the house lately. Mostly from one little three-year old girl who shall remain nameless.

She got sent to the steps for yelling “I don’t want that for dinner! I don’t LIKE red peppers!” (at the top of her lungs!) earlier this week.

When I went in to release her from timeout, we had this little conversation –

A: Mama! Mama! I DO like red peppers! Can I get off the step now?
M: I did not put you on the steps because you don’t like red peppers! I put you on the step for talking to Mama like that.
A: Oh. Ok. Can I get off the step now?
M: What do you say to me?
A: I love you, Mama? (Oooh, the girl is good.)
M: Noooo, you need to look at me in the eyes and apologize.
A: (Silence. Chirp, chirp. But a few tears welling up in the corners of her eyes)
M: You say, ‘I’m sorry for talking to you like that Mama.‘
A: I’m sorry for talking like that to you Mama.
M: I do not ever want to hear you talk to me like that again, got it?
A: (In all seriousness) I do not ever want to hear you talk to me like that again, got it?

Emma is cracking up in the living room, and yes, it was hard to maintain a “mad” look after that little stunt.

Cheeky monkey.