Being Late For Dinner Carries a Stiff Penalty

Tonight at dinnertime Boo didn’t come in from playing outside when she was called.

One of the good things about living in Hawaii is that the kids can play outside all year long. And barefoot too!

We live on a military post, so it’s a safe area that’s full of young families. That means there’s always someone outside to play with too.

The rule is, the kids are supposed to stay within earshot of the house. If they go anywhere else, such as inside a neighbor’s house or away from our circle, they are supposed to let me know where they’ll be and I give them a time to be back.

But tonight when I called, Boo was apparently too far away to hear. I figured I’d have to send one of her sisters to find her.

Then she appeared after we’d already sat down to dinner without her, and promptly burst into tears, because she knew she was in trouble for being out of bounds. Apparently she’d been playing in the field a few streets over, which she knew was too far away to hear me.

So the penalty for this infraction has already been set; we’ve been over this ground with Boo before. If she can’t follow the rules for playing outside, she can’t play outside for a day.

Honestly, this is punishing myself too, because it’s torture to enforce it. Tomorrow Boo will be whining like crazy and throwing herself around the house in agony. ALL DAY LONG. But if I don’t come down on her, she’ll never pay attention to the rule, will she?

Still, tomorrow is going to be a LONG day. And it’s a Saturday, too.

Which is why Boo was really in hysterics at the dinner table. “But it’s my ONLY DAY to play ALL WEEK!” she said dramatically. (Not including Sunday. And every afternoon after school. But don‘t bother her with facts, please.)

So dinner was a noisy affair, what with all the screaming and crying. Oh, and the comments from Boo’s older sisters. “You should make her stay in Sunday, too, if she doesn’t shut up,” said ET helpfully.

I really enjoy it when a fourteen-year old child gives me parenting advice, by the way.

And then Baby Girl joined in the general mayhem with her own screaming. She was wearing a sundress and had painted her bare shoulders with strawberry jelly while I was occupied with Boo. I think she was trying to be some sort of Jam Warrior.

At this point the phone rang. It was a wonder I heard it over the din. Actually, my house pretty much sound like that every time someone calls, it seems. Telemarketers probably think I’m sitting in a stadium. Or a prison.

It was my neighbor, whose daughter is Boo’s age, calling because she was also unsuccessful in summoning her child to dinner. I asked Boo if her friend had been with her in the field, and then informed my neighbor of the out-of-bounds child’s whereabouts.

I think someone else is in trouble too.