Micah recently got a little mouse purse from Gymboree. Jordan has coveted it in the most sinful manner possible. Yesterday the babies broke Jordan's piggy bank so I promised her a new one, a little shopping trip per se, while the babies napped. This is the conversation that transpired last night.
Jordan (with much sobbing and tears): I want a mouse purse!
Me: You are not getting a mouse purse. That is Micah's. Besides that, you just got a new piggy bank. Micah didn't get a piggy bank.
Jordan: But I want a mouse purse!
Me: Jordan, you are being so ungrateful. You have more toys that are your own than any child in this house. Let Micah have this purse to herself. It is her purse.
Jordan, still sobbing has begun to thrash about a bit.
Me: Jordan, do you know what a funeral is?
Jordan: shakes her head no
Me: It is a special church service we go to when someone dies and goes to live with Jesus. Today Miss Courtney and I went to a funeral for a mom I know. Her little boy is only 5 years old. How old are you?
Jordan: five.
Me: So another little boy the same age as you has lost his mother. She went to be with Jesus. You have a mom and a dad who love you very much, a brother and sister who love you very much. You have so much to be thankful for.
Jordan: But I want a mouse purse!
In some ways this conversation was funny. Of course we disciplined as necessary. After the hour long bouts of time outs and crying fits I was going over the coversation in my head. I wonder how often God, while being patient and trying to speak rationally to our hearts, feels like he is talking to a 5 year old. Thank goodness that he is better at parenting than me!
