It Takes a Sneak
I’m eating lunch when I hear the garage door slam. It’s one of those spring-loaded fire doors that will take the toe off the slow-witted.
“That’s odd,” I think. “Lael doesn’t like going into the garage alone.”
Then I hear the bathroom door close. “Okay, so Lael was coming out of the garage. Maybe she was looking for a toy in the car?”
Figuring Lael would be in the bathroom for a while, I call my mom. A few seconds later, I hear the garage door slam again.
With my mom chattering in my ear, I open the door. There, with her back to me, Lael’s shoulders rise as her arms bend inward toward the torso; it’s a classic guilty-body reaction.
From my high vantage point, I can see there is an open roll of Smarties in my little girl’s hands, which she is now trying to shove into her mouth. Several fall to the ground. I snatch the remaining ones from her little fingers, which I later eat when she’s out of sight.
Open on the floor is a green, party-favor box, which is one of several left over from Seth’s birthday. About a week ago, I moved the extra boxes into the garage because Lael had been merrily pulling the candy and cookies out of them. At the time, I warned both kids to save the boxes for Lael’s upcoming birthday party.
“Lael! You little thief!” I say in a menacing voice. She smiles at me.
“Um, mom? Let me call you right back.”
Bringing Lael into the house, I reward my girl with a long time out. I realize the punishment is never going to deter my daughter – when she wants something, she gets it – but what else can I do?

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