"Mommy, can I have a cookie?" Four-year-old Leah Healy looked up angelically at her mother Becky.
"No, sweetheart. I don't want you to spoil your appetite. Supper's almost ready," Becky replied.
"Awww," Leah whined dramatically. Before Becky could scold her for complaining, her husband Mark walked in.
"What's the matter, Princess?" He scooped the pouting Leah up into his arms.
"I want a cookie, but Mommy says I can't have one before supper," Leah frowned at her father.
"Oh, no, how terrible!" Mark played into his daughter's disappointment. He turned to his wife.
"What harm could one cookie do?" he asked Becky, who looked up from stirring the spaghetti sauce she was making.
"It'll ruin her appetite, Mark!" Becky replied, annoyed. Why did he always have to do this? Make her look like the bad cop? The man used a fake ID to get into a bar when he was seventeen, and here he was nearly ten years later, afraid to upset a four-year-old.
"Come on, Becky. We both know she has a ravenous appetite. I'm sure she'll eat all her supper and ask for seconds. Right?" He looked to his daughter for support. She nodded.
"All right," Becky replied irritably. "One cookie, Leah Rebecca. That's it."
"Yay! Thanks Mommy! And thank you Daddy!" Leah kissed her father on the nose, and he set her down and helped her get a sugar cookie from the cookie jar. Mark made eye contact with Becky and smiled at her, but she just frowned back.
Soon after, the spaghetti was ready, and the Healy family sat down to eat. While Leah didn't clean her plate or ask for seconds, she did eat most of her food. Mark got lucky this time, Becky thought to herself. She was just waiting for the day his permissiveness ended up biting him in the ass. It certainly wasn't going to be pretty.
After supper, Becky gave Leah her shower, and afterwards, Leah was able to enjoy a half-hour of TV time with her parents before bedtime. Well, almost a half-hour. They got started a little bit later than usual which meant Becky would have to cut Leah off before the episode of Dora ended. It wasn't going to be good – especially with Mark likely pleading Leah's case. Becky tried to push it out of her mind – she'd deal with it when it came up. For now, she snuggled up next to her husband, who had Leah on his lap – baby doll in her arms and Hello Kitty blanket draped over her lap.
Becky periodically glanced at the clock. Finally, at 8 o'clock sharp she stood up. "All right, Leah. Time for bed!" she tried to sound as cheerful and encouraging as possible.
"But…it's not over yet!" Leah protested.
"I'm sorry, but 8:00 is bedtime. We could've started TV time sooner, but you decided not to put your pajamas on right away after your shower like I had asked and talk back to me. You're lucky you still got any TV time at all."
"Come on, Beck," Mark chimed in. "We don't know if she'll make it to the magic castle or not."
"Yes, we do, Mark," Becky snapped. "You and I both know that Dora makes it to her destination every damn time." She turned to Leah. "Now, let's try this again: you go to bed now, or no TV time tomorrow."
Leah turned to her father in desperation. He had a serious expression on his face. "Come on, Princess – Mommy said it was time for bed." Leah sighed.
"Fine," she replied in defeat. She headed down the hallway to put her baby on her bed, and then to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Mark turned to Becky, but before he could say anything, his wife spoke.
"Mark Healy – you and I need to have a talk after we put Leah to bed," Becky said sternly.
Mark was confused but just nodded. "All right, babe."
Mark read Leah a quick story and then he and Becky kissed her good night and filed out her bedroom, closing the door behind them. They headed back into the living room.
"What's up?" Mark asked, taking a seat on the couch next to his wife.
"You need to put your foot down with Leah!" Becky exclaimed. "You let her walk all over you and then when I try to implement discipline you make me look like the bad guy! We're supposed to be on the same page, Mark. Parenting is supposed to be a team thing."
Mark sighed. "I know," he agreed. "I just…I hate disappointing her, you know?"
Becky's voice softened. "Yeah, I know. Me too. But we can't give her everything she wants and let her misbehave without discipline. Things will only get worse as she gets older."
"I'm not really sure how to discipline my daughter when my own experience with discipline growing up involved my parents taking a belt to me," Mark said quietly.
"I know you had it rough and I'm so sorry," Becky put a comforting hand on her husband's shoulder. "But we don't need to hit her. I mean, we've got that handy time-out chair over there in the corner. I've made her sit in it before. And it works. Five minutes – that's it. Then I talk to her about why she had to sit there – she's a big girl, she always knows why. Then I give her a big hug and kiss and we go about our day," Becky said.
"It's that easy?" Mark asked.
"Well, it's not always easy. Sometimes she goes to sit in the chair by herself. Other times, I have to carry her – kicking and crying. Then she'll start the guilt tripping, "but Mommy I love you so much!" she'll cry. "Don't you love me anymore?" And I want to just pull her off the chair, wrap her up in my arms and never punish her again. But I know that I can't," Becky finished.
Mark sat quietly for a few moments. Generally, Leah was relatively well-behaved for him – Becky, too. But Leah seemed to only really get in trouble with her mother. Mark couldn't remember ever having to discipline her. However, Leah was a preschooler, so he was sure she'd test the boundaries with her dad eventually.
"I'll do better," Mark finally turned to his wife. "I love you. I'm sorry I've been such a parental pushover," he kissed Becky on the forehead who laughed.
"I love you too," Becky replied. "Now, I think I'm going to hit the hay. I'm exhausted. Good night."
"Good night," Mark smiled.
The next day Becky went out to lunch with her sister Darlene, her mother Roseanne, and Aunt Jackie, leaving Mark home with Leah. Mark was watching TV in the living room, and Leah was building with blocks in her playroom – or so Mark thought. Soon, he heard suspicious noises coming from down the hall. He checked the playroom and didn't see Leah there. He followed the noises to his and Becky's bedroom, where he found Leah sitting on the floor playing with the tools in his toolbox – something she had been told by both parents explicitly not to do.
"Leah Rebecca Healy," Mark scolded his daughter using a stern voice he had never used with her before.
Leah jumped upon hearing her name. Realizing she was in serious trouble, she turned on the charm.
"Hi Daddy," she grinned up at her father.
"What do you think you're doing?" Mark asked.
"I'm fixing stuff with my tools!" she exclaimed excitedly.
"Those are my tools," Mark said firmly taking a wrench out of Leah's hand and putting it back inside his toolbox along with other tools that had been strewn about. "You have your own tool set in your playroom to use. Haven't Mommy and I told you not to touch Daddy's tools?"
Leah nodded. "Uh-huh," she replied.
"So why didn't you listen?" Mark asked.
"I don't know," Leah replied. "I'm sorry, Daddy."
"I am, too," Mark replied. "Well, Leah Healy, I'm afraid I have to punish you."
"No!" Leah cried. "No, Daddy! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"
Mark picked his daughter up and carried her out to the living room. The whole way, Leah begged and pleaded with her father – even kissing his cheek several times and telling him how much she loved him.
He planted her firmly in the "time-out" chair. "You're going to sit here for five minutes.
"But Daddy, I love you!" Leah was sobbing now. "I guess you don't love me anymore!"
Mark choked back tears himself but headed to the kitchen to set the oven timer for five minutes. He sat at the kitchen table facing away from Leah so I wouldn't have to look at her. He buried his head in his hands trying to drown out his little girl's sobs.
Soon, the door opened, and Becky walked in. Noticing Leah in timeout she was audibly surprised. She quickly headed to the kitchen and sat down next to her husband.
"What happened, Mark?" Becky whispered.
"Leah got into my tools, so I put her in timeout," he looked up. "How much longer is on the timer?"
"30 seconds," Becky replied. "Good for you, I know it's hard, but this is good. She needs this. So do you," she added, soothingly rubbing her husbands back. Soon the timer beeped.
Mark got up, turned off the timer, headed for the couch, and sat down.
"Come here, Leah," he said softly. Leah slowly got up and walked over to her father.
"You can sit on my lap, Baby," he coaxed soothingly. Leah quietly climbed up onto her father's lap.
"Do you know why you got in trouble?" Mark asked.
Leah nodded. "I touched your tools when you and Mommy said not to."
"That's right," Mark nodded. "Do you know why we don't want you to touch my tools?"
Leah looked up at her father and shook her head.
"Well, for one thing, we don't want you to break them," Mark said. "But we also don't want you to get hurt. You could smash your little fingers with the hammer or poke yourself with the screwdriver. You don't want that to happen, do you?"
Leah shook her head.
"Neither do Mommy and Daddy. That's why we have that rule, and that's why you must obey it. Do you understand?"
Leah nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry Daddy. I won't do that again. I promise."
"Good girl," Mark replied. "Can I get a hug, Princess?"
Leah turned around and gave her father the biggest hug she could muster. He squeezed back and kissed her forehead. "I love you Leah Healy," he said.
"I love you too, Daddy," Leah smiled.
"Now what would you like to do?" Mark asked his daughter.
"I want to go play with my tools!" Leah said excitedly. "Do you want to play too, Daddy?"
"Sure, sweetheart," Mark replied.
"Can I play too?" Becky asked coming out from the kitchen."
"Of course, Mommy!" Leah exclaimed, giving her mother a hug too. The Healy family headed off to the playroom.