Last year, we were having a problems with our 2 year old getting up within seconds of putting her to bed. She was rapidly learning the art of bullshit. “I need a wee”. “I heard a noise”. “I need a drink”. “I heard Paul’s cats” (Paul is our neighbour. He has 84 cats). “I need a poo”. She got out of bed 5/6 times every night. We tried telling her off, but it wasn’t working.
Then, my wife read something about taking away a toy to correct bad behaviour. Peppa Pig was her favourite, so the tough love started. We explained what was going to happen, and it did; for three or four nights, we took away a teddy. We gave her the choice of who was going, we weren’t brutal by taking Peppa, but tears ensued. Lots. We sat listening and laughing at her crying (not really, it was awful), but it only took a few nights; she was cured. No more getting out of bed, and she was no longer tired in the mornings.
A few days later, there were the pitter patter of feet across her bedroom, I went to see what was wrong.
Met with a tiny figure opening her door, hair like Worzel Gummidge, rubbing her tiny eyes, which were straining to stay open. She spoke:
“I need a wee daddy. Here, take this”
That’s right. She handed me Peppa. I felt like a big dad bastard. Hate me don’t you?