She’s had a little cold. Tonight she wanted to take a box of Kleenex in her room. Seeing the potential for distraction from much-needed sleep, I immediately said no.
And then I thought, really? Something as simple as letting her have a box of Kleenex in her room and I’m saying no before I even give her a chance? The worse that could happen is I communicate the desire behavior and the consequence for not doing so, and have to take the Kleenex away.
So I gave her the box. She was giddy, perhaps more from the chance to be trusted than from the Kleenex. Or maybe just the Kleenex.
“Wait!” she called as I headed out of the room for the night. “What do I do with the kleenexes once I use them if I can’t get out of bed?”
“You can either set them on the night stand or throw them on the floor. We can pick them up in the morning.”
(Because apparently I could trust her with Kleenex but I trash can seemed like too big of a stretch.)
I have no idea why I found it so adorably comical when I went to check on her later and found a small array of kleenexes littering the floor. But I do.