I’m teaching my kids great manners.
It started the other night, as I was fixing my daughter her fanciful dinner of peanut butter and jelly. She had pulled the chair alongside the kitchen counter to watch as I smeared the amicable pair across a slice of bread. The enticing jar of creamy JIF found itself in close proximity to Abby, tempting her with it’s deliciousness. Her finger then covertly dived in to the rich substance, pulling out a heap on the tip, to be quickly licked away.
“Abby, what are you doing? I have your sandwich right here”, I initially protested, twisting the cap tightly back on it’s container and returning the jar to it’s rightful place within the cabinet.
She snuck her finger in the vat again the next day, coming away with a messy fist of peanut butter. “Abby, we don’t lick out of the peanut butter jar”, I did my motherly best to explain. The lid was twisted back on and put away.
Then yesterday for lunch, as I was readying the plates and bread with Abby kneeling in the chair next to me, she asked for the peanut butter. The further lecture was contemplated. No, I could have reiterated. It’s not polite nor hygienic for your finger to dip in its contents. Instead, I untwisted the cap, handed her a napkin, and said go for it. Because some lessons are just greater than others. I may have even joined her. You only live once, right?
She wanted to do the same with the jelly, though, and that’s where I drew the line. We’re not savages after all.