The PB&J Standoff

I have found that parenting can be a battle of wills. A series of epic power struggles. Epically stupid power struggles. And if you have a stubborn child like I do, it can turn quite absurd very quickly.

This was never more apparent than during Christmas break last month. I had a feeling that my 8-year-old daughter had been throwing away her sandwiches at school (she has done this before). So I decided to test out my theory.

I asked her if she would like peanut butter and jelly for lunch, which is what she always wants me to pack for school due to her supposed love of PB&J. When she wrinkled up her nose with disgust at the mere suggestion, my radar went off. I wanted to see if she would at least be honest with me. We’ve been having issues with honesty for a while.

“Do you come home hungry all the time because you aren’t eating your lunch?” I asked. “Of course I eat my sandwiches,” she quickly replied. Almost sounding annoyed that I dare ask such a ridiculous question. When I wondered why she seemed so disgusted by her “favorite” sandwich, she had no answer. So I told her she had two options. Tell the truth about not eating her lunch at school or prove her love of PB&J by eating the frigging sandwich. She went with option B. Great. Moving on. Or so I thought.

This whole thing started at noon. Fast forward to 1:00. She’s still sitting there. Staring at her plate. I tell her that this is the one time I’m not going to budge. I give in too easily, too often. Truth or consequences today, sister. She gives me the look of a warrior who isn’t about to back down. You can almost hear the western theme song they play in movies during a standoff. I remain unmoved and returned her determined gaze. I leave and continue with my Christmas baking.

Fast forward to 2:00. She’s still sitting there. Now her sandwich is a crumbled mess. At this point, she is defying a direct order I tell her. She moans but refuses to give in. She tells us that not only is she not going to eat the sandwich, but she’s also leaving home. For good! Before I can even respond, my husband says “There’s the door!” She goes to “pack” and he informs her that he owns everything she has and that she can only leave with the clothes on her back. And the shoes stay too. He’s going to send her out barefoot? Oh, that’s cold.

She insists that he wouldn’t dare let her leave anyway and seems unfazed. He opens the back door for her and says “Wanna bet?” At this point, I’m really hoping she doesn’t go outside, because we would totally lose our tough guy stance if we had to drag her back in. But he called her bluff. And so she sat, staring at the sandwich.

By now it’s 4:00. I was sure she would have cracked by now. But no. She complains that her bread is hard. Dad even offers to make her another sandwich, to which she refuses. At this point, we get into police interrogation mode. Willing to make any and all wild threats to get this kid to break. There is no good cop, bad cop. We are both rogue cops ready to end this standoff. We tell her that dinner is going to be that sandwich. And if she still hasn’t eaten it, her breakfast will be that sandwich. She will spend every mealtime with that nasty sandwich until it is gone. Still, nothing.

It has now been almost 5 hours. I am in disbelief. She has got to win the award for most stubborn human being ever to walk the earth. Don’t get me wrong. She is generally a good kid. But she is strong-willed to the max at times. And did I just see a smirk? No she did not smirk at me! I think I’ve finally lost it.

I look at her and say, “You think this is funny? Well, guess what? Christmas. Is. Cancelled!” I had just heard about the mom who cancelled Christmas because of her naughty children and I was inspired. I’m not sure if I could have carried out this threat, but no one defies me and smirks about it! I could see a little glimmer of concern in her face. I knew I was on to something. I told her that she now has 5 minutes to finish that pile of yuck she created, tell the truth, or lose some prized possessions as well as hot chocolate and movie night. I was on a roll and hot chocolate and movie night is big around here during Christmas. She finally took us seriously and ate that stupid sandwich. The 5-hour PB&J standoff had ended.

Did we handle it the “right” way? Who knows? I don’t claim to be the perfect parent. I muddle through it, usually winging it as I go. But sometimes I just get tired of a 2nd grader running the show. I think for the first time she saw that we meant business. And that her mom isn’t the pushover she thinks I am. Hopefully, we’ve taught her some very important life lessons. Don’t lie to your parents. Do what you’re told. Don’t try to call our bluff. And always eat your sandwich!