Stop punching me!
When I arrive from conferences I get to hear the full report of what I missed at home. This time was no exception, and it came with a priceless story about my 3-year-old son.
First, some context: We have been trying to teach my son what punishment means lately. He is very quick to say “I’m sorry”—quick to a fault. So, we have been trying to be more explicit about how even when he is truly sorry, he still has to suffer the consequences (e.g. sitting in his chair, not getting to play or go somewhere, not getting his puzzles back). That way, sorry doesn’t become code for: “I don’t want to suffer any consequences.”
While shopping at COSTCO, my son was misbehaving for my wife (who also had my 1-year-old son in tow) and the consequence was to leave the store early. He quickly offered an apology and my wife explained to him that even though he was sorry, he still needed to be punished and the result was that they had to go home right away. In her explanation came use of the general theme of punishment and its gerund, punishing. As they were leaving the store, my son decided to voice his objection to this punishment by exclaiming: “Mom stop punching me!” and “Don’t punch me mommy!”
Needless to say, my wife was horribly embarrassed and my son appears to think that ‘punishing’ and ‘punching’, or ‘punish’ and ‘punch’, mean the same thing. Which means, of course, that he now has found an effective way to punish us for punishing him by framing us into abusive, child-punching parents.
And I find it all very funny. Until I take him to the store, the park, church, or wherever and need to punch punish him.
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When my little sister was the same age, my mother tried to take us to the store to get dinner. My little sister was overtired and didn’t want to go to the store, but we needed dinner, so my mother started dragging her out of the car over her protests. At which point my little sister screamed, “Stop hitting me!” at the top of her lungs in a full parking lot.
We ordered pizza.