“Ainsley, you are not eating dinner until you finish cleaning your room,” I state after she throws an hour long temper tantrum about not cleaning her room.
Right before dinner Ainsley comes running into the kitchen . . .
“Mommy! Mommy! I am getting a princess room!”
“What?”
“They are making me a princess room.”
“Who are “they”?” I ask.
“I am not telling, because you will make them stop!”
“Ainsley . . . how did you convince your brother and sister to clean your room again!?”
She just smiles at me. This child is scary.
That night before bed.
“Madie and Ben. You have to quit cleaning Ainsley’s room. When you were her age I made you clean your room and you were able to do it! So stop cleaning hers!!”
“Mommy, I didn’t want her to starve to death! So we “helped” her,” Madie says.
“Unless you want to go to her college dorm room and clean her room there, STOP CLEANING HER ROOM! I just want to know what she says to you to convince you to do this each time. Seriously. I’ve got to keep your Aunt Debra away from her. She is teaching her too many “I’m-the-third-child-look-at-me-I’m-so-cute” tricks.”
“Why is that?” says Ben.
“I am telling you all of this because that was ME. I was always cleaning/organizing your Aunt Debra’s room. I even drove up to college to do it. Learn from me children. STOP CLEANING HER ROOM NOW before it is too late.”
The Puddles 
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