Yesterday, C2 was refusing to eat his lunch.
I cajoled. I bribed. I pleaded. I threatened.
In a huff, I dumped him in the Naughty Corner saying, “When you’re ready to eat like a good boy, you can come out.”
Not a squeak from C2.
Tired playing the waiting game, I went to check on him.
“Do you want to come out from the Naughty Corner and eat properly now?” I asked him.
His reply? “I think I’ll stay here for a little bit longer.”