The String Cheese Incident

I wonder if the members of this group have five year-olds... because I appreciate that name on a whole new level now...

Last night, Molly was tired.  It was Wednesday - so she already has had soccer practice, two gym classes, and a WHOLE LOT of recess time because it's been so beautiful here.  She also has been fighting some sniffles.  I could tell when I picked her up from after-care, she was wiped out. 

Because she had been playing on the playground and had gym yesterday, she was a little sweaty.  So Daddy and I suggested we do bath before dinner.  Then after dinner, we can snuggle, read stories, and go to bed early.  She agreed... of course, I put bubbles in the bathtub and we DID NOT want bubbles. 
Daddy expertly corraled the bubbles to one end of the tub, so crisis averted.

But I should have sensed then that she was going to blow.

After bath, Molly asked for a snack.  She wanted string cheese.  So as I fixed dinner, I watched Molly get said string cheese out from the fridge and start to open.

That's when it happened.

The string cheese broke.

And Molly started walking straight to the trash can.

"What's wrong, Molly?"

"My cheese broke."

Molly opens lid on trash can.

"Molly, please do not throw that cheese away..."

"But it's... BROKEN!!!!"

Thus began 30 minutes of crying over broken cheese.  At one point, when I said "that cheese or no cheese," she walked over to the table, gestured with her hand, and replied through sobs, "But I can't eat THAT cheese.  It's broken!"

Finally, after a few moments of quiet on the naughty step (for talking back... not for refusal of cheese), she calmed down, then ate the cheese (it was that or no dessert) and a really good dinner.  We snuggeled, read books, and she was sound asleep by 7:40 p.m.

It's tough enough to be five and in Kindergarten.  But to have to eat BROKEN string cheese on top of that?  Really... it's too much.