This morning my kids were fighting over goldfish. Not the ‘swim in the tank’ kind, but Goldfish crackers. You see, I bought the oversized milk carton size for the kids to enjoy over the long holiday weekend.
The goldfish frenzy, I believe, was created by the fact that I don’t usually purchase them. The kids saw something they liked, and took it upon themselves to grab as much as they could, as quickly as possible, without thinking about anyone else – or how ridiculous their hoarding really was.
It was Addie who first spotted them; and she quietly enjoyed them, hiding her discovery from her siblings as long as she could. But once they all spotted the carton in the pantry, the kids spent the entire weekend shoveling them into their mouths.
Divvying up food is a theme in my house. When there is something everyone wants, I have to don my black and white referee shirt and give them a stern lecture in sharing. And this time was no exception – it was a VERY STERN lesson, because my kids aren’t toddlers learning how to share. No, the Effin’ Goldfish Fight was between my 15- and 13-year-old teenagers!
There was a moment that I felt this fight was my fault. I have ‘trained’ them to make their own lunches – which is a good thing . . . unless someone (aka Little Miss 13) hoards the last bit of goldfish. (If I were making lunches, I’d count out the goldfish, divide by 4, and if there were any leftover, I’d eat them!)
Now big brother arrives in the kitchen ready to make his lunch, and there is no more goldfish. He eyes his sister’s stash, which is quite hefty, and begins to demand she share. Keep in mind, he is not the best in sharing when things are in his possession.
I head upstairs to finish getting ready for the day, thinking my teenagers have the ability to work this out in a mature manner. Sixty seconds later, I’m in the middle of drying my hair and hear a faint “Mom!” I glance up and see a shadow in the doorway of my bathroom. It’s my 15-year-old son. Walking into my room and into my bathroom without me inviting you in is not OK, unless it’s an emergency. The effin’ goldish fight is NOT an emergency.
“Mom, can you tell Nicole to give me some Goldfish? She won’t share them.”
For a brief moment, I see a 3-year-old boy trying to pry open his little sister’s tightly clasped fist to grab the last goldfish, or two, from her fingers. But, I realize that I’m staring UP into the face of teenage boy, and I blurt out, “If the two of you can’t share, I’m never buying goldfish again!”
Goldfish wasn’t the only thing causing commotion in my house. Within a span of two days, my family spent way too much energy figuring out who ate the last chocolate chip bar (Greg!), and who drank the last can of soda, because so-and-so never had any (no one confessed to this one).
Needless to say, soda and goldfish are not on my grocery list this week.
I know using a threat is not the ‘proper’ way to educate my kids about sharing. But I’m thinking that the threat of me never buying any more goldfish or soda, just might get them to think twice when it comes to sharing.
I’ll let you know if I have to wear my referee shirt this weekend.
