>Ruining Her Life

>“Mommy,” Punky said while eating her lunch the other day.

“Yes?” I answered distractedly from the counter.

“You know how you told me to stay in my room at night unless it was an emergen-seat?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, you’re kind of ruining my life.”

I stopped what I was doing and tried not to smile.

“What do you mean?”

“I just want to know how you would feel if I told you to stay in your room every night. How would you feel?”

“…Like it was time for me to go to sleep,” I shrugged.

Punky sighed deeply and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m very upset right now,” she announced.

“What exactly do you want to come out of your room for?” I asked her.

“Well, sometimes I drop my dollies and I can’t even get out of bed and pick them up!” she said.

“Yes you can,” I said.

“But you told me I couldn’t!” she protested.

I laughed. “Punky, that was when you were three! You’re five now!”

She paused, and then grudgingly laughed, too.

“Well I didn’t know,” she said. “You never told me. How was I supposed to know?”

“Well you know now,” I said. Finally satisfied, Punky continued eating her lunch.

I watched her for a moment. Funny, I had thought I didn’t have to worry about ruining her life for at least another seven years…

This post originally appeared on Parents.com.