The Effects of Chocolate

I could go on about the effects chocolate have on me. . . I am sort of on a diet at the moment so it would definitely be applicable.  But this story isn't about me.  It's about Signe.  We were invited to our neighbor's last night for s'mores (they have a fire pit).  The girls love making s'mores and would eat a half dozen if I let them--I don't.  However, apparently two was enough to keep my five year old wired for quite sometime.

Rob was out of town, and when he is, I generally let the girls sleep on my floor.  Sig is a night owl anyway, and can sleep in, (so never suffers the consequences of not enough sleep) so I am not sure why Hannah has any desire to sleep with the obnoxious blanket stealing, giggling, chattering windmill that her sister becomes after dark.  But none-the-less, she does.  Apparently crazy sleep depriving company is better than no company.  Perhaps her logic is that if an intruder, or alien, or the man who saws plastic actually does appear, she can toss Signe is his path as a distraction technique and escape.  Considering Sig's distraction abilities, it's not a bad plan.  

However, by 10:00 both of us were rethinking that plan.  Sleep was sounding much more appealing than safety from would be night time marauders.  After much threatening,  a significant reduction in Signe's point tally, and one flailing trip to her own bed (at which time she inadvertently flung herself off the bed and whacked her head) where we discussed the truly bad behavior she was exhibiting, I decided she was sufficiently repentant (mostly I assumed the knock on the head would calm her down) and I gave her one more chance to return to my room.  We discussed how things were going to go down, sealing the deal with a pinkie promise and marched back to the camp on my floor.

For a moment all was silence.

Then a rapping started on the wall.

"Signe!"  I said in a stern but exasperated voice. "You promised to go right to sleep and you broke your word."

"But--" she started.

"No buts.  What good is your word if you don't keep it.  I can't trust you if you break your promise. Do you want your word to mean nothing?"

Silence.

Light sobbing.

I sigh.  Then Hannah tentatively says, "Um.  Mom.  That was me tapping.  Sorry.  I didn't want Signe to get in trouble for what I did."

That really made me feel like a shmuck.  "Thank you for admitting that Hannah.  That was very honest. . .don't do it again.  Signe, I am sorry I accused you wrongly."

"Mom? That really hurt my feeling when you said you didn't trust me." Whimpers Signe.

Then we discussed trust and keeping your word all over again and somehow her little tongue couldn't hold still.  She would "forget" she was not supposed to talk.  Then she would say: "I am going to sleep right now."  to which I would say "Uh huh, right." (I probably should have taken her to her room right then, but I was already in bed and I figured the sugar would wear off soon.) 

"Right now mom. . . right NOW. . . now. . . I'm going to sleep right now. . .do you hear me?"

At least Hannah had fallen asleep by this time--and Sig wasn't really moving, just talking softly.  

"I'll believe it when I see it."  I whisper back.

"No, trust me. I mean it this time . . .right now."

Silence.

"Mom, we forgot to do family prayer." Signe suddenly says.  

I roll my eyes, but I wonder where this is going so I say:  "Do you want to say it?"

"Yes."  She then goes on to pray, saying the usual things, but then adding, "Please help me keep my promise and obey my mom and go right to sleep. Amen."  

Silence. . . still silence. . . still more silence. . . heavy breathing. Yeah!  

For that little prayer I was glad I hadn't just drug her back to her own bed sooner.