When you wonder if they're paying attention...
Me: What game are you playing? Why is there so much yelling and killing? Knock it off!
Little Mr.: Mom, don't you know anything? We're playing dictator. There's lots of killing in that.
Littlest Mr.: We even let Little Miss have her own country. But we killed her kind.
Little Mr.: Come on, your country can't win every time!
Me: Um, in the history we're reading right now, do any of the dictators "win"?
Little Mr.: No, Mom, but we're just playing, so sometimes the dictators do get to win.
Time elapses, we eat lunch, while folding laundry I begin another conversation with The Little Mr.
Me: L.M., I need your help.
L.M.: I know, go play with Little Miss.
Me: No, I need help getting all the toys and junk off the floors. Then they need to be swept and vacuumed. I need help thinking of a reward for you and your brother if you do the job.
L.M.: That's easy Mom, we get to eat taco night tonight.
Me: You're on.
Realizing that they were having that for dinner anyway.
L.M.: Hey Mom, What if we don't do the job? What's the punishment?
Me: Leftovers
He actually ran down the stairs to get his brother's help.
Really, my leftovers aren't that bad. In fact, I had some for lunch, during the hostile take over of several countries right on my kitchen table. The dictators graciously moved aside their armed forces to make room for my bowl.
So, those kids of yours, and everyone else's kids too, they're listening. Even when they look like they aren't.
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