Personal Perspective Changes Everything

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ly. “You can have my crackers,” she told my daughter in a true act of generosity.My daughter reached for the cracker being held out to her, hesitant. She had her own crackers, but it seemed mean to say no, after all.“I already ate my favorite part, so now you can have the rest!” my niece declared, thrusting the cracker forward.My daughter’s desire to keep everyone happy fled, and she snatched her hand back as if the cracker had flames consuming it.“You want me to eat a cracker YOU LICKED the peanut butter off of?” she asked, horrified.My niece was pleased to see her cousin understood and added, “Yes, you can have all of them.” She beamed at her cousin, who was her favorite person in the world. Of course she would share her snack!I was in the doorway, trying not to laugh, when my daughter screamed for me, so it didn’t take long for me to get into the living room. I quickly assured my kiddo that she did not have to eat the spit crackers just because they had been offered.I also took time to explain to my niece that while I didn’t require she eat the crackers if she didn’t want them, I didn’t want my kiddo to eat them at all, since she had her own snack.A snack that no one’s tongue had already cleaned from top to bottom.Perspective is everything, y’all.Generosity and torture look exactly the same, depending on which side you’re looking from. 😉<div id="6ed5" class="link-block"> <a href="https://medium.com/membership/@mgray-editing?source=publishing_settings-------------------------------------"> <div>

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For real, though

My oldest daughter (a redhead who has always been surprisingly even-tempered considering the reputation redheads have) was around ten, and my niece would have been eight.

My niece was spending the day with us, as was (and still is) often the case on the weekends her dad had her, and I had just given the three girls (my youngest would have been three) a snack, and I had returned to the kitchen to get myself some coffee. (Coffee is life.)

As I was coming back around the corner, I heard my niece say, “I don’t like the cracker part. I just like the peanut butter.” She was busily separating the crackers and bathing them with her eager, eight-year-old tongue, careful to get every speck of peanut butter.

“It’s good together,” my daughter replied, always eager to keep the peace and knowing that if they didn’t eat the snack they had been given, that was their choice, but they wouldn’t be getting another one. “I like the cracker part a lot. The salt is good.”

My niece (also a redhead) thought for a minute, and then her face lit up like the Fourth of July. “You can have my crackers,” she told my daughter in a true act of generosity.

My daughter reached for the cracker being held out to her, hesitant. She had her own crackers, but it seemed mean to say no, after all.

“I already ate my favorite part, so now you can have the rest!” my niece declared, thrusting the cracker forward.

My daughter’s desire to keep everyone happy fled, and she snatched her hand back as if the cracker had flames consuming it.

“You want me to eat a cracker YOU LICKED the peanut butter off of?” she asked, horrified.

My niece was pleased to see her cousin understood and added, “Yes, you can have all of them.” She beamed at her cousin, who was her favorite person in the world. Of course she would share her snack!

I was in the doorway, trying not to laugh, when my daughter screamed for me, so it didn’t take long for me to get into the living room. I quickly assured my kiddo that she did not have to eat the spit crackers just because they had been offered.

I also took time to explain to my niece that while I didn’t require she eat the crackers if she didn’t want them, I didn’t want my kiddo to eat them at all, since she had her own snack.

A snack that no one’s tongue had already cleaned from top to bottom.

Perspective is everything, y’all.

Generosity and torture look exactly the same, depending on which side you’re looking from. 😉